It's Dangerous To Go Alone
by Kelenloth
Summary: She could see all the doors, and what was behind all the doors. There was only one way this could ever work. She could not do it alone. If Elizabeth is to bring Jack Ryan to Rapture, she will need her father's help. This story is my attempt to tie up the lose ends left by Burial at Sea Episode 2, and perhaps even give hope for a happy ending.
1. Chapter 1: This Side of the Abyss

A/N: I would like to briefly explain how this story came about. When I first played Burial at Sea, there was one twist in the plot that I saw coming from the start of Episode 2. It was a perfect twist that would tie in all THREE games (including Bioshock 2) and make full sense of everything and maybe give even a chance of a happy ending. I was excited to see this plot point unfold and wrap everything up nicely. But then it didn't happen. Nothing really happened to contradict it, but that one last key part of the plot was never put in and so there were all these lose ends. This story is my attempt to fix that. I did not want to write this story - I want someone else to - but no one else volunteered, so it was left to me to botch it up. I hope you like the problem-solving aspect of this story, even if you don't like the dialogue and other parts. I don't like them either. I am sorry if parts of this feel OOC, I'm not really used to writing Booker yet. IF you would be willing to re-write this story, keeping the basic plot but fixing the rest, I would love to hear it. Thanks!

Also thanks to my Beta for this story, insanityisthekeytosucess :)

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**Chapter 1: On This Side of the Abyss**

"Hold on." The words echoed and slurred in her failing mind. "I've got you, just hold on."

The light had faded now. The music was gone. She could feel nothing as she was picked up, carried, and laid back down. She could not feel the blood running down her forehead or the gauze now pressed to the wound. But she could hear him.

"Don't die on me, Elizabeth, don't you _dare_ die!" Obedience to the command was as involuntary as it was necessary. She barely knew who she was in that moment, but she knew that she must not die, not matter the cost. She must not die if only to satisfy that desperate command.

"Come on, wake up." He pleaded. "Open your eyes."

Blinding light and piercing pain met her as she struggled to obey.

"She's conscious." The voice reported as shapes struggled to form themselves into faces and sounds struggled to form themselves into words.

"She will live." She heard a steady female voice state plainly.

"The debt has been paid in full." And equally solid male voice continued.

"We will return when she recovers enough for the procedure." She knew these voices, but they were not like his. Not like the man she now realized was holding her, pressing a cloth to her head.

"Until then we will leave you two alone." The conversation, if it was a conversation, was completely lost on her shattered mind as it fought to realize her surroundings.

"Take care, Mr. DeWitt." The other voices stopped as suddenly as they had started, and as her vision finally cleared she found herself alone with the man she least expected and most hoped to see. Her father.

"Booker." The name somehow found its way coherently past her lips, which trembled in pain.

"Sshh, you're gonna be alright." Booker smiled above her.

"S-Sally…" Elizabeth tried to glance around. Even moving her eyes shot pain like daggers through her skull, and moving her neck was practically out of the question. Her memory came back in bits and pieces. She hardly remembered what had happened, only that Sally was in danger and that this worried her deeply.

"She'll be alright," Booker said softly, "Jack is on his way."

Elizabeth's brow knotted. Of all the confusing things, this was a step too far. How did he know? "Booker…" She winced as the pressure on her head shifted. "Am…Am I dead?"

Booker tried to laugh but the concern was evidence in his voice. "Not quite. The Luteces came through, like you said they would. We're back in New York." He took a damp cloth and began to wipe the blood from her face. "And as soon as you're better, I'm taking you to Paris."

"No, but…" Elizabeth was still putting pieces together. "You were dead. You weren't real. It was all… all in my head. Have I… gone insane?"

Booker chuckled again at the pitifully confused expression on his daughter's face. "No. I'm real, and so are you. And this is a real room and…" he removed the gauze and quickly pressed a fresh piece to her brow. "A real head wound. Can you hold this?"

Motor function was easier asked for than granted. Elizabeth gasped with lightheadedness when she tried to move her arm and Booker had to hold the gauze a while longer before she could put proper pressure there. She now saw that he had a first aid kit and was preparing to affix a proper bandage to her head. She did not want to know how bad she looked or how much blood she had lost over the last few hours – or was it days? - In Rapture.

"No, don't fall asleep." Booker's voice came to her again. She had not even noticed that her eyes were closed until they were open again. "I've no doubt you have a concussion. I know you're tired but I need you to stay awake a little bit longer."

Elizabeth sighed. She probably knew more about the biology of concussions than Booker did, but he knew far more than she did when it came to the experience. This was a lot more tiring than it sounded in her books. There was no helping the pain or the drowsiness, but the confusion was a different story. Setting her mind on staying awake, "What happened?" she asked. The gravity had returned to her voice by the time Booker was wrapping her skull in long white bandages.

"What do you remember?" Booker continued his work, trying to brush her hair out of the wound without hurting her.

"I… I had died." Elizabeth blinked. "I couldn't… I still can't see behind the doors." Some amount of panic came to her tone. She looked down and saw, still a bit to her surprise, ten healthy fingers on her own hands and not a thimble in sight. "I was in Rapture, trying to get Sally back from Atlas. And you… you were in my head." She looked back up for answers and Booker had to force her to stop moving her head.

"Don't worry about that just yet" he pressed the back of his hand to his brow to think, careful not to touch anything with his red-stained fingers. "Just know that I'm really here, and we'll talk about the voice in your head later." He said, far too comfortable with the idea of voices in her head. "What else do you remember?" Booker secured the bandage and stood up, turning to the sink to wipe off his hands.

"Atlas attacked me. I thought I would die for sure."

"But you didn't." Booker turned to several bottles in the first aid kit, searching out a strong painkiller and handing it to Elizabeth with a glass of water.

"I was trying to remember what I had seen through the doors." She took the medicine without question. "What you said, about Jack… I think I remember something about that. But I can't quite see. But how did you know? And how did you find me?"

"You showed me before you left." Booker sat back down, watching her intently as if she might pass out again any moment. "I know you don't remember, but you and I planned this whole thing through. I just can't believe it actually worked." He looked at her like she was a miracle.

"Wait," She told him, pressing a hand to her brow and praying that the medication would kick in soon. All of this talking and keeping her eyes open was becoming unbearable. "Start over. I remember… I remember killing Comstock. Then I woke up on the ground. But you… you were dead. I..." Her voice dropped to a whisper again. "I killed you." Thinking was far harder than it should have been. "Are you sure I'm not dead?"

"If you were dead, do you really think we'd be in my dingy old office in New York?" Booker asked dryly. "If you don't remember anything in between killing Comstock and waking up dead then I suppose I've got a lot of explaining to do." He ran his hand through his hair. "Well, maybe by the time I'm done you'll be ready to get some sleep." Booker settled in to tell what Elizabeth already knew would be a very long story.


	2. Chapter 2: Sorry Isn't Good Enough

**A/N: **Just so you know, despite the end of the first chapter, this story will not be told as narrated by Booker, nor will it be restricted to Booker's POV. I'n no good at anything more than third person omniscient. Also, I feel the need to apologize for this chapter. It is very hard to write with no dialogue. I hope this doesn't tunr anyone away from the story. It gets better soon. This chapter is chronologically the first. Chapter 1 is, unless I change chapters 14/15, chronologically the last.

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**Chapter 2: Sorry Isn't Good Enough**

_Never should have left. Never should have left. Never should have left._

The words repeated in her head endlessly, accompanied always by the haunting chorus; _Too hot! Too hot!_

_I'M SORRY! _She tried to shout._ I never should have left you there!_

_I'm sorry._ She wept as the sheer volume of those terrified, tortured screams overwhelmed her.

_Too hot! Too hot!_

"I'm-" Elizabeth opened her eyes and gasped in a shuddering breath. "-Sorry." She whispered into the cold silence. She woke alone in the dark room, trying desperately to forget what she knew she never could. Every time she closed her eyes she could see Sally and hear her crying out. How could she have been so cruel? So heartless, so proud as to take that innocent life just to satisfy her own desire for – for what? Revenge? Justice? It had not been worth it. She was such a fool. Not simply a fool, a killer. How could she ever have despised Comstock when she, herself had… she did not want to think about it. She had failed.

"I'm sorry…" She whispered to herself again as she pushed herself out of bed and to the small bathroom nearby. She bent down quickly and washed her face, but the cold water did nothing to wash off the horror of her dream.

She would not go back to sleep tonight. With her quantum superposition she was not sure she needed sleep any more, but she enjoyed at least pretending to preserve some form of normalcy in her life. It was something to keep her human.

Elizabeth resolved to search the possibilities again. There had to be a way. She had been over this so many times, searching for other options. What would become of Sally, and of Rapture, if she did not go back? She had seen all of those stories before. None of them ended happily. Nothing ever changed there. The cycle of brutality rolled on, growing ever larger, until the city was drowned from the inside out. No one ever fought back. No one ever saved them. And Sally? Those monsters tore out her heart and harvested everything they thought was useful. She was tossed aside like garbage after her protector was defeated and she had no escape. Nowhere to hide except the inferno Elizabeth had created.

And what if she returned? There was nearly as little hope even then. She knew what could happen. She had seen all that could be done. If she went back she knew she would meet him: Atlas, though that wasn't his real name. After that, it was chaos. The possibilities were endless. But nearly all of them ended exactly the same way. Nothing changed. The cycle was never broken. It was like being in the Comstock house over and over again. Booker never made it, no matter how hard he tried. Now she was the one who could not stop the endless brutality. Over and over again she had tried, opening different doors, running the numbers in her head. Almost nothing she could do could save them.

Almost. Elizabeth knew there was a way. She had seen him. Once. There was one unbelievable, unreachable chance that the little girls of Rapture could be saved. His name was Jack. Jack Ryan. The most unlikely hero anyone had ever heard of. But he would never reach Rapture. That chance was lost when Andrew Ryan sent Frank Fontaine down.

Then again, Elizabeth looked behind another door. If there was anyone who could help Fontaine, anyone who could help get Jack to Rapture, it was her. She could see all of the doorways. She knew exactly what to do. Which choices to make, where each splicer would be, and exactly what Atlas would ask. She knew what she needed to do to manipulate the situation. She knew how to get Jack Ryan back to Rapture. But it would never work, because Elizabeth knew the consequences of going back. And no matter how well she planned, it was a plan she could never fulfil.

She had died that night. She could not go back to that world, it was too close. Going back was suicide. Going back would mean the loss of everything that she and her father had both sacrificed so much to gain. Not only would she lose her powers, she would forget. She would forget everything that she saw behind the doors. Whatever plans she could make would be lost. She would be no better off than Booker was in that lifeboat. Creating new memories where there were none, forgetting what was really there. It was a risk she knew she couldn't take.

"I-I'm sorry, Sally." Elizabeth shuddered in the dark. _Sorry is not good enough_ she thought as she looked back up and herself in the mirror. She knew she had to go back, but she was scared. The risk was too high, the odds impossible. _Booker wasn't scared_. She told herself. Booker had laid down his life; let himself be drowned to save her from Comstock. And had he tried to run away? Now here she was, holed up in an abandon lighthouse adrift in the multiverse running away from what was right.

Never in all her years, despite being cooped up in that tower for most of them, had Elizabeth ever felt so alone. She missed him. Her father. The only friend she had ever known. "Booker…" The name escaped her lips in a vain attempt to break the lonesome quiet of the night. "Booker, what do I do?" She sniffed.

She had never noticed how little she resembled her father. She did not have his eyes, his nose, ears, or mouth. Neither his chin nor his brow stared back at her in the mirror. But she was a DeWitt. And a DeWitt paid their debts.

"What do I do?" she repeated weakly, growing frustrated with herself. She could see so many possibilities, how could she be so lost? She had been running from this for far too long. But she was afraid. If Booker were here, he would know what to do. If Booker were here, she would know what to do. And he would save her. She didn't know how, but she knew he would. He always did. If anyone could fix this, it had to be him. She needed him back.

She thought back to the last time she had seen him. He had not even struggled as she held him under that river. But no, that was not the end, was it? She had seen him once since then. The night before she went to Rapture she saw him. She watched as he struggled to wrestle his daughter – to wrestle her – from her kidnapper's arms. Just before the door closed a moment too soon.

All weariness left Elizabeth as a wild idea came into her mind and for wonderful moment she dared to hope: She could get him back. If there was one last Comstock to steal Anna then there was one last Booker to mourn her. How had she not looked towards this possibility before? Was it shame at being present for her own death? Or had she really been that blind with rage at the last Comstock? It did not matter now. She had to find him.

But even if she found this other Booker, could he help her? He would not be the Booker she knew. He would not know her. But Elizabeth now understood the doors, the tears. She had walked her Booker back through his past. Could she not walk this Booker through her Booker's past as well? If that Booker could remember being the Martyr of the Vox, than perhaps this new Booker would be able to remember being the False Shepherd. It was worth a try. And there was no reason to delay.

At her command, a tear to 1912 New York opened and without hesitation Elizabeth stepped through.


	3. Chapter 3: AD

**Chapter 3: AD**

"Ah!" Elizabeth was nearly on her knees the moment she reached New York, hand raising automatically to her face to stop the blood hemorrhaging through her nose. She did not normally have this problem. Normally she could control it. But this was a world in which Anna DeWitt was dead. Elizabeth panicked for a moment, thinking that she had already given her powers away, but she looked down to see the thimble still on her finger. The connection between herself and the Anna DeWitt of this world was not strong enough to end her life or her powers. This must have been how Booker felt, she reasoned, when they came to the world in which the Vox called him a martyr.

It was only after her nose had ceased to bleed that Elizabeth realized that it was, in fact, raining; and raining pretty hard at that. God only knew how late at night it was, and she had not nearly enough experience in New York to even guess her exact location. But she had made the tear and she knew that Booker's office must be nearby. 108 Broadway. She had seen the address written down at the Lutece's laboratory and had memorized it just in case.

Elizabeth did not know how she found the door, but she was not surprised when she did. Things like this had their way of happening to her; perhaps it was her quantum superposition. Perhaps she was remembering from the life of another Elizabeth who stayed with her father all along or made it to New York on the First Lady. All the same, she soon found herself standing out in the rain under a streetlamp knocking hard on the familiar wooden door.

"Mister DeWitt!" She called out over the rain, pounding on the door. "Mister DeWitt!" She had not yet planned what she was going to say to him or how she was going to explain who she was. "Mister DeWitt, open the door!"

"We're closed!" She finally heard a shout from inside. His voice was groggy. She had probably woken him.

"Mister DeWitt, please." She tried the doorknob, but it was locked.

"I said we're closed! Go away!" Booker did not sound like himself. He did not sound merely drowsy or even drunk. He sounded desperate.

Elizabeth did not hesitate to kneel and deal with the lock. It was of a higher quality than most things in the small office apartment, but that was not saying much.

"Mister DeWitt?" She asked, slowly letting herself in.

"I said," Elizabeth heard the sound of a pistol cocking in the darkness. "We're closed."

This did not stop Elizabeth for walking into the room. She was at once hit by the strong stench of alcohol, cheap cigarettes, and mildew. As her eyes adjusted to the low light she could see Booker DeWitt sitting up in his bed in the corner. He did not look like he had just woken, rather like he had not slept in several days.

Most notably, however, the gun in Booker's hand which she had heard him ready was not pointed at her. Rather, Booker held its muzzle straight up to his chin. Elizabeth's eyes widened as she took in the scene: empty bottles littered the floor and her very drunk father sat on the verge of taking his own life.

"A…Anna?" He stopped when he saw her face, as if looking into a dream. "I-Is that you?"

"Mister DeWitt, stop!" She rushed to his side. "It's me, it's Anna!" She would say anything to stop him, but this happened to be the truth.

"No." The dream fell away and Booker pressed the gun harder into his chin, "No, you can't be." He drew back from the intruder, his finger tightening on the trigger. "I'm sorry, Anna." He closed his eyes.

"Booker!" Elizabeth shouted, reaching him just in time. She shoved the pistol out of his hands as it went off, sounding a deafening bang between them and creating a hole in the wall by the bed, but luckily not one in Booker's head. "Booker, stop!" Elizabeth ordered as he began to struggle against her to regain control of his weapon, which she snatched from his drunken hands.

For a moment she feared that he would strike her. She had never seen him like this before. But a moment later he had collapsed back against the wall, his anger turned into utter defeat. Tears rolled down his cheeks as all he could do was mutter "I'm sorry Anna… I'm so sorry…"

The ghost of his daughter had come back to haunt him and deprive him of even the final respite.

"Mister DeWitt." Elizabeth's tone softened. She sat down on the edge of his bed, moving his pistol safely out of reach, and reached out to place a gentle hand under her father' trembling chin.

"A-Anna?" She had never thought that Booker DeWitt could sound this utterly defeated.

"Mr. DeWitt I'm…" she hesitated "I'm Elizabeth." She said carefully, watching as confusion covered his face.

"Not…not, Anna?" He asked, sounding as hurt as a stricken five year old.

"I need your help." Elizabeth continued, trying to judge what her next move should be. This was not among the things she expected when she had set out to find Booker again.

"No." Booker looked away, shaking his head in self-disgust. "No, you've come to the wrong place, I… I c-"

"No." She cut him off, her hand on his arm and her voice just as stern as his was despondent. "I haven't." Booker's eyes drifted towards his pistol again and Elizabeth picked it up to keep it away from his reach. "You're going to help me, Mister DeWitt and I'm going to help you." She stood up and looked him over once more. He really was in quite a state. "But first, you are going to get sobered up." She decided. "You should get some rest." She sat down resolutely in his desk chair and placed the pistol on the desk, as if to signal that she would sit there all night if she had to.

"No." Booker's determination was returning. "I don't want your help. And I'm not resting until you explain what's this all about." His words slurred as anger rose in his voice "Barging into my office in the middle of the night, taking my gun-"

"A chance at redemption," Elizabeth told him. "To save a little girl who needs your help."

This shut Booker up more effectively than Elizabeth had expected. But after he thought for a moment he answered in a low voice "I've no hope for redemption. Not after-"

"What if I could get you Anna back?" Elizabeth interrupted again.

"Anna is dead!" Booker exploded. "She died in my arms after I sold her! She was the only thing I had left, the only thing I loved in this whole damn world and I sold her! My own daughter! Then I couldn't even give her away. She died because of me! You think you can fix that? With what, redemption?" The only time she had ever heard him this angry he was drowning Comstock before her eyes. Now he seemed set on drowning himself. "You think some dunk in a river is gonna save me? Some errand to save someone else's daughter? After what I did?"

"No!" Elizabeth shouted back. "No. I don't." She lowered her voice and somehow managed to lower Booker's with it. "But I will not allow you to take your life." Her voice held a frightening gravity. "Or wallow in your own hatred and regret. Not anymore. Not while I'm here." Her tone was that of a threat, and her words hung in the air for a long moment during which Booker could do naught but stare. "I just need you to trust me." Elizabeth added finally with a sigh, her natural sympathy returning to her voice. "I know you're hurting, Booker, and I know you don't believe me but… Please. Just trust me."

Booker was looking down at his hands now. For a long while he did not say a word.

"You…" He started quietly and almost stopped. "You look just like her mother."

Elizabeth bit her lip but did not reply. She took that as, if not acceptance, definitely not denial of her offer. "Get some sleep, Mister DeWitt." She said at last. "I promise I'll explain all this when you're sober in the morning."

Elizabeth stood to her feet, Booker's gun still in hand, and walked determinedly out the door. Booker stared and watched her go.

The moment she was back out in the rain Elizabeth sank down to the floor against the rough brick wall, sobbing. "Booker…" It was the first time in a long time that she had allowed herself to cry; only the second time since her original Booker's death. "Booker, what do I do?"

"Elizabeth?" She was startled to hear her father's voice. She looked up to find him leaning out of his office door. She did not even try to cover up her tears. "Are you going to sit out here all night in the rain?"

Elizabeth sniffed and Booker took it as a response. "Come inside." He told her, "I don't have an extra bed, but I at least have a roof to my name."

"Th-thank you, Mister DeWitt." Elizabeth wiped her eyes as she followed him through the door.

"There's an extra room in," Booker hesitated, "in there." He pointed to the door on the left. Elizabeth already knew what lay behind it. "I might have a…. a towel somewhere…maybe a blanket." It was obvious that Booker was having trouble functioning at this state.

"I'll be fine, Mr. DeWitt." She tried to reassure him. "Get some rest." She made sure to watch him lay back down before moving to the next room. An empty crib still sat in the corner collecting dust. Elizabeth felt like crying again. She peeked back through the door.

As the very drunken man in the next room proceeded to pass out on his bed Elizabeth watched him and considered how this sad, broken man could be her Booker DeWitt, how he could be the one she knew would save her. Now that he lay some feet away she still missed him. She missed her Booker. And she needed him back.


	4. Chapter 4: Family Reunion

**Chapter 4: Family Reunion**

Light returned slowly to Booker DeWitt's eyes, though much too quickly for his liking. He tried to remember the dream he had had last night. Anna was there. She was offering him a chance at…what had she called it? Redemption. He had never dreamed of seeing her all grown up before, but it had not been a particularly nice dream. And it was doing nothing to help his splitting headache now.

"Mister DeWitt?" Booker nearly jumped straight out of bed and landed on the floor.

"What?!" He barked far too loudly as his hung-over mind was assaulted by the bring light of dawn. His hand instinctively went to grab the gun off his bedside table; but it was not there. When he finally collected himself, a young woman sitting near his bedside was offering him a drink.

"Drink this. My book said it would help." She offered.

"What's in it?" Booker took and sniffed the drink.

"You should know not to ask that question by now." Elizabeth answered him. Booker downed the drink without further question and without wincing at the terrible taste. He blinked and tried to take in what had become of his office. It had not been a dream after all.

During the night his young intruder had somehow managed to clean his office of all bottles and cigarette butts, go grocery shopping, make him whatever was in that drink, dry her clothes, and make the room smell significantly better than normal.

She now sat at his desk enjoying what looked to be a freshly made scone and warm cup of tea, which he had no idea where she got. For him she had prepared a cream cheese bagel and a hot cup of coffee, by which he was equally confused.

"How did-," Booker scratched his head and considered the possibility that he was still dreaming; normally his hangovers did not persist with him into his dreams.

"It's a bit of a long story." She told him. "But I promise I'll explain." He was eyeing her more suspiciously than she had ever seen anyone look at her before. She wondered if this was how the Lutece twins often felt.

"Am I…" Booker considered what events he could remember from the past night. "I'm not dead, am I?" He asked, hoping that hangovers did not continue into the afterlife.

"No." Elizabeth informed him. "And you're not dreaming either. You're going to have to trust me on this, because when I tell you the truth you're not going to want to believe me."

Booker nodded, but did not seem convinced. He took the bagel and coffee he was offered.

"I had to guess on how you like it," Elizabeth said apologetically as he took a sip; one sugar and no cream. It was some of the best coffee he had ever tasted. Definitely not from any shop around here.

"So…" He tried to begin a conversation, but did not know where to start. There were so many questions that each one on its own seemed like too small or too big a query. Finally, having sat drinking their tea and coffee in silence for some time, Booker settled on "You said you needed my help?"

"Yes." The young woman answered. "I need you to… well…" Out of all of the outlandish things Booker could have questioned, this did seem to be the most difficult to describe. "There's a lot to explain." She said, frustrated. She placed her tea to the side and took a deep breath. "Icanopenportalstootherworlds." She blurted out in one breath.

"Excuse me?" Booker raised an incredulous eyebrow.

"I can… open portals to other worlds." Elizabeth repeated slowly. "This world, it's not the only world that exists. Just one possibility among an infinite number of possibilities." The look on Booker's face said that even if he understood what she was saying, he now wondered if she was the one dreaming.

"Umm, here, I'll just…" Elizabeth stood up and pointed to the empty corner of the small room by the door. In a flash of light, the corner with its dingy peeling wallpaper was gone, replaced by an airy balcony somewhere where roses grow.

"What the Hell!?" Booker jumped, dropping his coffee mug, which shattered on the floor. He was still sitting on his bed and now backed into the corner, looking at Elizabeth like she might have been a witch.

Elizabeth pointed again and the balcony vanished.

"What in God's name was that?!" Booker was standing when she looked back, ready to fight or to run.

"It was a tear." Elizabeth told him calmly, sipping her tea once more. "Here's another." She waved her hand in the direction of the remains of his coffee mug and all at once it was replaced by a mug sitting, unbroken and filled with coffee, on the floor.

"How the Hell…" Booker backed away from the magical coffee mug and away from the magical girl sitting at his desk.

"In another world, in another version of this room, in another version of this conversation, you put your coffee down before I opened the tear and you didn't spill it." Elizabeth informed him calmly. "I can see and access all of those worlds."

"How?" This Booker seemed much more incredulous than she remembered Booker DeWitt being, but this Booker had not been on a floating city, running from a giant semi-mechanical bird creature while shooting flames and lightning from his hands. Not yet anyway.

"That's also a long story…"

"Well I want to hear it." Booker snapped, standing. He was growing more agitated the longer this girl sat uninvited in his apartment opening up magical portals to who-knows-where. "And what does any of this have to do with me?"

"Booker…" Elizabeth knew she had to tread carefully now. His brow knotted as her tone switched from the formal 'Mister DeWitt' to the sound of someone addressing an old and dear friend. "I'm from a different world too."

"Yeah? What's it to me?" He was scared. She could feel it.

"Booker, in the world I came from your daughter, Anna, didn't die." Booker's breath caught, his eyes growing wide.

"So…so what are you saying?" He asked, disarmed. "Are you saying I could get her back?" Elizabeth nodded. "Where is she?" Booker followed quickly. "Is she safe? How do I help her?"

"Booker," Elizabeth stopped him. "What I said last night wasn't a lie..." She swallowed hard. "I'm Anna." She whispered. Booker's heart seemed to stop beating.

"…What?" The tall man stepped closer, his voice suddenly low and threatening. If this were some sort of trick, the girl in his office would regret it.

"I know it's hard to believe, but I'm Anna. An Anna from a world where she – where I - didn't die." Elizabeth explained as quickly as she could, standing now to face Booker. "It's another reality, another possibility, in which Anna lived. She lived, Booker, and I'm… I'm her." She reached forward and took her father's hand in her own. The gruff man melted at her touch, all fear and intimidation falling from his face in an instant.

"Wh-Why should I believe you?" Booker stammered, but she could see the tears already filling his eyes as this broken man dared to hope. Her hands were soft against his rough and calloused knuckles. She looked just like her mother. Raven black hair, deep blue eyes. He could see it now. It was not a dream.

"Because…" Elizabeth answered his nearly forgotten question. "Father…" The word was as a bell, transforming her explanation into a homecoming. It was the first time she had ever called him that. The first time she had ever said the name with love. "I think you already do." She stepped closer.

Booker stood paralyzed, mouth agape and tears now escaping the corners of his eyes. "A-Anna?" He called her, raising a hand to her cheek to prove one last time that she was not a ghost.

In the next instant Elizabeth was in her father's arms. His embrace was warm and strong. He smelled like whiskey and smoke and his stubbly beard scratched her smooth brow. Tears filled her eyes and she smiled against his chest as she finally learned what it felt like to hug her father, and to be held as a daughter. After all she had been through with Comstock, her real father's embrace was more wonderful than she could have imagined.

"Anna…" Booker wept her name, holding her close and laying his head on top of hers. "Anna I'm so sorry…"

Elizabeth did not realize how much she needed this moment until it was upon her. "It's okay." she told him, tears falling freely as she buried her face into his shoulder. "I forgive you." She was barely able to speak the next words for the rush of joy and grief they brought her "I…I love you, Daddy."

Booker's arms tightened around his little girl's shoulders and for a long while he could not speak. "I-I love you too, Anna." He whispered at last.

Elizabeth had not expected this when she knocked on his door late last night. Everything had always been so chaotic around her and Booker, she had not really considered the possibility of finally just being what they were: a family. Now that she had, the chance all other possibilities seemed worthless. "I missed you." She mumbled against him. All of her life, she had missed this.

"I missed you too." He was practically rocking her back and forth now, refusing to let go. When they finally pulled apart, both a mess of snot and tears, he looked her over in a new light, sniffing and smiling. "How…" He could not even complete the question. "How can…"

"I'll show you, in time." Elizabeth answered. "We've got a lot of catching up to do, you and I." she laughed, wiping at her tears. "And Booker, I still need your help." She tried desperately to remember the severity of the reason she came.

"Anything." He was dumbstruck at the miracle before him. "Anything for my little girl!"

"I need you to come with me. There's something I have to do and I can't do it alone." Elizabeth had a two-part plan, but it had vanished from her mind the moment she called him 'Daddy'. She took a moment to breathe and remind herself: Sally. Sally needs your help.

"Of course." Booker immediately began to ready himself to go out the door, pulling things from drawers and looking around to find his gun.

"Booker." Elizabeth grabbed his hand to stop him. "There's a whole lot more I have to explain." He was now listening intently, ready to believe anything she could tell him. It was certainly a change from the man glaring at her half an hour before. "In the world I came here from a lot has happened. There was another Booker there, another you. He saved me, but I lost him. And…" Elizabeth sighed once more in frustration. Follow the plan. "I need you to be him."

Booker's brow knotted. "Aren't I already?"

"Well yes, but… I need my old Booker back." She said as plainly as she could. She was well aware that she sounded like some spoiled child, never satisfied with the gift she was given, but now as she tried to distance herself from the moment they had just shared Elizabeth did not know if she could really be Anna DeWitt after all that had happened. She was Elizabeth, and she needed him to be Elizabeth's Booker, not Anna's. The Booker DeWitt who broke into her tower was not the same man who had followed her back to the river, and she needed that Booker back.

Booker was starting to look worried. "But… does that mean… you'll leave?"

"No!" Elizabeth reassured quickly. "It just means that you'll… change." Booker nodded, but did not understand. "We've got a trip ahead of us. We're going to go back to the world I came here from." Elizabeth continued. "When we get there, the contrast will cause you severe mental dissonance. You will suddenly have two memories at once competing to both be true."

"I'll remember you as having lived?" Booker did not yet see what the big problem was.

"Yes. But there's a lot more than that. You'll remember everything we went through together, and that's a lot. I'll try to take it slow, but you're going to have a whole new life in your head. It won't be easy." Elizabeth told him, hoping she was not asking too much. She knew she was. "You're still going to be Booker DeWitt – you'll still be my father." She tried to reassure him. "You'll just be a different Booker. Understand?"

"Yes." Booker answered, though she did not believe him. "And I want to be that man, that man that saved you. I-I don't want to be the man who lost my baby girl." He added quietly. "I guess you figured that out last night." He looked down.

"Well, there's one more thing…" Elizabeth finally handed Booker back his gun, which she had been keeping hidden since the incident the previous night. "Booker," She looked him in the eye. "This is going to hurt."


	5. Chapter 5: The Mind Adapts

**Chapter 5: The Mind Adapts**

"Where are we?" It was raining again. Lightening crashed overhead and Booker could see two strangers standing before him. He knew immediately where they were. They were back, back in that goddamn ally way where his little girl had died.

"This is where it all started." Booker could vaguely hear Elizabeth say, but as he was transported back into his memories Booker's instincts took hold.

"Hey!" he called out. "Hey, the deal is off! Do you hear me? The deal is off!" His feet were carrying him forward before he even knew what he was doing. "Give her back!" He shouted, practically launching himself at the man holding his child. Elizabeth stood back and watched as the two men struggled over her. "Give her back, you son of a bitch!" Booker shouted as immense fear filled his heart. He already knew how this ended. No matter what he did, Anna was going to die. He had relived this moment in his nightmares too many times to hold on hope of any other outcome. "No!" He yelled at the bearded man, trying to stop him from disappearing through the wall. "Anna! Anna!" he cried as he was nearly pulled through himself. "Give me back my daughter!"

In the next moment the unthinkable happened. Booker's hands, wet from the rain, slipped off Comstock's arms. He gave one last shout in despair as he watched his daughter disappear from sight. But not before the universe played one last trick; severing the poor infant's finger and leaving it behind to stain him in his daughter's blood.

"NO!" Booker shouted and was hit at once by a hurricane of pain. "Jesus Christ!" A second later he was on all fours, heaving for breath, head swimming, blood dripping out of his nose at a truly alarming rate.

"You're okay. Don't try to stop it, just breathe, just let the memories come." Elizabeth was kneeling next to him, pressing a handkerchief to his profusely bleeding nose.

"Anna!" Booker cried again, the emotions of the moment mixing with the pain of the dissonance in his head. "Anna! What have I done?"

Elizabeth's hand was on his back. "She didn't die, Booker." She reassured him. "Your daughter was taken, but she didn't die."

However glad Booker had been earlier to hear that his daughter was alive, it did little to comfort him now. "Anna I'm sorry." He grasped at her arm as she held him, "I'm so sorry…" The emotion was one with which he was all too familiar. It had constituted his life for the past twenty years; and now that he was in a world in which his daughter had survived it did not feel any different at all.

"You said," He gasped for breath, "you said she was alright."

"I said I didn't die." Elizabeth corrected him. "Come on, that's not the end of the story." She tried to get him on his feet.

"Your finger." He stopped her, grabbing her hand as she tried to lift him. Elizabeth did not respond, but forced Booker to stand up, even though his nose was still dripping blood. "Anna, I'm sorry." he said again.

"Come on." Elizabeth opened another tear. Booker followed her without question.

"I don't understand…" Booker said, barely noticing that they had stumbled back into his old office in New York. It was still raining outside. "Anna died. I remember."

Booker crashed into his desk chair, still holding his hand to his nose, as Elizabeth crossed the room and turned on the small radio in the corner. Faint, unknown tunes drifted over the dark room. The Luteces said that music helped to anchor the mind and she would try anything that might help.

"Not here." Elizabeth answered as she returned to his side. "Anna lived, Booker. But she was taken from you. You lost her. You shared this room with your regret for almost twenty years."

"I-I remember. I lost her. And her finger, she… I hurt her." Booker's mind was starting to get its story straight. "Twenty years." He had spent his own twenty years in misery. This part was not hard to understand.

"Then, one day a man came to you and offered you a chance at redemption." Elizabeth continued. "A chance for us to be together." Booker looked up as another tear opened in the middle of his office with a man in a raincoat standing on the other side.

The next several minutes were a complete blur. Booker's mind, layered over reality over reality, stretched, strained, and struggled to adapt to all that had and was happening to him.

Minutes stretched into hours and possibly even days. Booker followed his daughter through doorway after doorway as she led him through his own life, like skimming through the chapters of a book. Each time he stepped through one of the blue portals a new wave of memories swept over him. He remembered the rocket, the raffle, the tower, and Songbird. He remembered the beach, the airship, Slate, Fink, Daisy Fitzroy and Chen Lin, the Siren, even the nightmare that was Comstock House and the Hand of the Prophet. He remembered destroying the Siphon. He remembered each firefight and each time Elizabeth drew him back from the abyss. He remembered it all as if he'd lived it, because he had.

Booker was not forced to re-live much of the chaos directly, as Elizabeth was not rebuilding his life but restoring it. She did not need him to make up the choices, answers, actions, or variables. He had already made them once before. He just needed to remember what had already accomplished.

Booker remembered every moment exactly as it had happened the first time, not as a spectator, but as he had at first. His nose bled almost constantly, of course, and Elizabeth tried to go slowly for him. She did not want him passing out, but he had lost a good deal of blood by this point. The further he was entrenched into his other self's life, however, the easier it got. Booker was letting go of his old self. He was remembering who he really was. The world in which his daughter died was soon nothing more than a nightmare.

After the Siphon was destroyed, Elizabeth led him through the same path she had led him before until the man beside her fully understood what it meant to be Booker DeWitt. His nose had stopped bleeding by this point. He was in nearly every sense the man she knew. She had not given him much time to react to each situation beyond how he had reacted before, so memories of this lightning fast journey through his own story were themselves a blur. He knew in the back of his mind that he had not just spent the last several days in Columbia but had rather been skipping through tears the whole time, but it did not matter.

Finally Elizabeth broke through Booker's story with a new turn. As this Booker finally learned that to be Booker DeWitt meant to be Zachary Comstock too, Elizabeth pulled him away.

"What?" Booker's nose immediately started bleeding again as his new set of memories was broken. He looked around and found them standing in that river – that same river. "No, I remember." He protested "You… you drowned me here. I… I died." His splitting headache returned. "Elizabeth, I died!" He insisted, taking her hand and pressing it to his chest as if to drown himself with it is she would not comply. "It was the only way – the only way to stop Comstock. I had to, I… I remember…" His voice cracked in desperation.

"Not this time, Booker," She wiped the blood from his nose with her other hand, but more replaced it. "What's done has been done. But this time it doesn't have to be you."

"What?!" Booker protested; still ready to be held under the water; it was what was right.

After all this time entrenching Booker into this story, Elizabeth, now had to remind him of his own. "Comstock has been dealt with; we made sure of that. When you died it nearly created a paradox, but the universe has a way of solving these things. The version of reality you are now a part of was preserved because it had become part of the continuum. Aside from this, each of us – you, Anna, Comstock, and me, we are constants. One version of each of us remained. But just one. In one pair of worlds."

"So if I die here too…" Booker began, releasing her hand.

"You don't," Elizabeth said sternly. "That door has already closed. You already died here, and if I killed you again, I… I don't know what would happen. But I do know that I would not be able to live with whatever might come next. Do not ask me to murder my father again, Booker."

"Alright." Booker nodded, his hand returning to his face to stem the crimson flow now dripping into the river. He was starting to get lightheaded, and Elizabeth had run out of handkerchiefs. "Alright, so the last Comstock. He's the one that killed you. The one I remember from before…" With the memory of Anna's death, foreign to this world, Booker's mind was assaulted once more. He stumbled over to the green hillside and sank to the grass, soaked in river water and his own blood.

"Yes." Elizabeth sat far more gracefully next to him. "But I've… well, we can talk about that later." She looked away. "We need to stop this hemorrhaging. How do you feel?"

"Like I've been run over by a train." Booker replied tiredly, "I don't think I can stand." It was not just the latest wave of colliding memories that stopped him; his body and mind had both been drained by the ordeal Elizabeth had put him through. But he had learned her story and his own.

"Booker," Elizabeth caught his eye. He was the Booker DeWitt she knew now; there was no question of that. She got him back. Even after he died, she got her father back. She smiled. "Let's go home."


	6. Chapter 6: Not Too Late to Be a Father

**A/N: **I am unsure of this chapter. Sorry if it gets slow or odd. I'm still not used to writing these two.

* * *

**Chapter 6: Not Too Late to Be a Father.**

When Booker opened his eyes the first thing to greet them was the slow spinning fan on the ceiling. Second came the light form his old office door. But third, beyond his desk, was a scene straight out of a dream.

About four feet away his long lost daughter sat in his desk chair staring into the far off horizon of the sea. Not through a window, as they were in the middle of New York City, but through a tear. Beyond her stretched an empty beach of white sand bathed in cool moonlight, and beyond that was miles of gently rocking waves. The radio played in the corner of his apartment and Elizabeth hummed along.

"Mister DeWitt, you're awake!" She cheered happily when he stirred.

"Booker." He replied, an automatic yet dazed response as he dragged himself into a sitting position.

"Of course." Elizabeth said as she pulled her chair closer. "How are you feeling? Madame Lutece's notes said that music was the best way to help someone cope with the mental dissonance."

Booker put his hand to his upper lip and for the first time in quite some time, found it clean of all blood. "I guess it's working." He said, noting that she must have cleaned his face while he slept. His collar was another matter. "I'm going to get a change of clothes." As he stood up slowly, he did not own that many different sets of clothing, and most of them looked the same. So, when Elizabeth saw him again, he seemed to be wearing the exact same shirt, sans bloodstains.

Booker rested his head in his hands as he sat back down. He could hardly believe the last few days. He had gone from attempted suicide to being a father to being a different man with a different past altogether.

"You've been in and out of consciousness for a few days." Elizabeth reported worriedly. Somehow, he was not surprised. "Booker, I'm sorry if I caused you pain."

Booker shook his head. "It was worth it." Elizabeth smiled. He loved to see her smile.

They sat in silence for a while, listening to the waves on the shore and the melodies that the radio played. The noise did seem to help. "Where is that?" Booker asked at last, motioning towards the large portal taking up nearly half of his apartment.

"I'm not entirely sure." Elizabeth turned back curiously. "It's on the east coast I think; The Carolinas, maybe. I thought about opening a door to Barcelona, but there are too many people there."

"It's lovely." Her father smiled to watch the curiosity on her face. Never before had Booker had time for this. He wondered now how he ever could have acted so gruffly towards her before, he wondered how he could have ever not cared. Even if she weren't his daughter, he would care for her. But, seeing as she was he wanted to make it up to her. To be the best father any man could be. The way she looked at him said that it was not too late.

"Lovely." Elizabeth repeated with a bit of a laugh. "I don't think I've ever heard you use that word before, Booker. I think you're going soft."

"Being a father will do that to a man." He answered. "Even an old villain like me."

Elizabeth did not respond. They watched the ocean for a while longer in the dying moonlight, for it would be morning soon. Booker stood up to stretch his legs.

"Got any more of that coffee?" He asked.

"I could get some." Elizabeth also stood; ready to change the location of the tear.

"Hold on a sec," Booker was fiddling with the dials on his old radio. It was a real wonder that this thing still functioned. He managed to turn the volume up as a catchy little tune blared from the speakers. "Last time we were on a beach," he turned back "You asked me to dance."

The way Elizabeth's face lit up made all of the embarrassment which followed as Booker stumbled his way through a waltz worth it.

"Sorry." He said for probably the tenth time as he kicked her in the shins again. Elizabeth was a patient teacher as she had a lot of practice being patient in her tower.

As he watched their feet and she watched him, Elizabeth wondered at the prospect of finally having a real father. It was nothing like the story books. She tried not to laugh as she imagined Booker as a man like Mr. Bennett from _Pride and Prejudice_ or perhaps, he was more like Jean Vajean from _Les Miserables_. All that mattered is that she would get to find out.

"The last time I danced, it was with your mother." Booker told her softly as he finally got a few steps right.

"Tell me about her." Elizabeth hoped this song would go on for some time.

"She was beautiful." Booker sighed. "You look so much like her. The same eyes, the same smile. I can't believe I didn't see it right away." Booker was still looking at their feet. "Her name was Annabelle." He continued. "You see, I wasn't very creative when it came to naming you." He smiled.

"Did you love her?" Elizabeth already knew the answer from the look in her father's eyes.

"More than anything." He said at once. "But, we weren't together for very long." Neither of them noticed that the song had ended and a new one begun. "When she died I… Well you know what happened next." His hands had grown warm and sweaty now, but he did not let go of hers. The two continued swaying in circles as Booker had figured out his feet but he was still watching them. "She loved you too, you know." Elizabeth continued to watch him. "She would have been so proud… So proud to see the woman you've become." She was surprised to watch a tear fall from Booker's eyes. "She would have liked the name Elizabeth" He continued musing. "I like it, anyway." He finally looked his daughter in the eye. Both were smiling and both could see the tears in each other's eyes.

"Thank you Elizabeth." The music had ended, but the sea still swelled behind them. "Thank you for saving your old man." He placed a gentle kiss to his daughter's brow. "I missed you."

"Thank you for the dance, Father." She kept hold of his hand as they stepped apart. The sun was rising over the smooth horizon now, the dull room lit in fiery pinks and glowing oranges, as it never had been before.

"It won't be the last." He promised her, giving her hand a squeeze. It was outrageous to think that he had been so callous towards her sunny disposition not so long ago.

"So…" They stood watching the sunrise.

"Coffee?" Elizabeth asked.

"I was going to ask what the next step was in the plan." He laughed.

"Coffee." She answered. "Then we can talk about Comstock and what I – we – have to do."


	7. Chapter 7: The Plan

**Chapter 7: The Plan.**

They were at a café somewhere. He did not bother to ask where. It was somewhere the waiters did not speak English, but not Paris. He could tell by the look on her face that this was not Paris. When he asked later why she hadn't taken them to Paris she said, a little embarrassed, that Paris needed to be something special. She would get too distracted and they had work to do.

She had not let their conversation over coffee stray into such work, but insisted that they talk about something else. Small talk was a rather new concept to Booker and Elizabeth, one they never had the luxury to engage in until now.

They talked about the weather and about the time of year, about dogs when one walked by, and about their tastes in music and in coffee. They talked about breakfast, which led them to order some, and about all of the things Elizabeth had done in her very substantial amount of spare time.

They talked about all the things she hadn't done, and Booker made promises to show them all to her. He was going to take her to a movie theater, to an opera, to a ballet, take her on a carriage ride and let her drive a brand new automobile. She would ride horses, climb mountains, see waterfalls and swim in the ocean if he had anything to say about it.

Funding such excursions was a discussion for another time. Booker had not forgotten that this all started with his gambling debts, but he was sure that they would find another way. Being with Elizabeth made him feel like anything was possible.

It was the afternoon before they began to talk business. It started when a little girl ran down the street holding a balloon.

Elizabeth gasped when she saw the child.

"What's wrong?" Booker's hand was on his gun.

"Sally." His daughter breathed out, then tried to collect herself. "I'm sorry… you had asked me what the next step was in the plan."

"Now is as good a time as any." He nodded, still concerned by the fear he saw flash through Elizabeth's eyes.

"You asked me what happened to the last Comstock." Elizabeth said carefully, waiting for dark red blood to come trailing down Booker's nose, but he was able to prevent it this time. His mind had been tempered, it seemed, by the fires she had put him through. "I killed him" She confessed quickly.

Booker was surprised, but he did not show it. "And… do you regret it?" He asked cautiously.

"…No." She replied much too slowly to communicate any confidence at all. "Comstock deserved what he got. But Sally…" Elizabeth's eyes were once again tracing where the little girl had been.

"Who is Sally?" Booker pressed her.

"An orphan." Booker could see that Elizabeth was trying not to cry. He wondered if with her powers over the multiverse, the poor girl could see this orphan's face right now. "She was an innocent little girl that I put in harm's way. She… If I don't help her she is going to die, Booker, and it's going to be my fault." She looked him in the eye for the first time since the subject was brought up and he saw both grief and determination lodged there.

"How do we save her?" It was obvious that Elizabeth already had a plan.

"I… I have to go back."

"Don't you mean we have to go back? You said you needed my help."

"That's the thing, Booker…" Elizabeth puzzled. "This isn't going to be like last time." She sighed. "When I killed Comstock, there was an accident. I died that night. And I've looked into the possibilities now, going back to a world in which I died – not just an Elizabeth, me personally – so soon after, with the continuum…" Elizabeth could tell she was losing her father in the details. He could not see everything the way she could. "If I go back, Booker, it'll be like the first time you got on the lifeboat off the coast of Maine. I'll forget everything a-and…" Elizabeth's voice caught as the fear caught back up with her. "I'll lose my powers."

"What? How?" Booker leaned closer.

"My quantum superposition is what kept me alive. But if I go back, I'll be giving that up." She fiddled with the thimble on her half missing finger.

"Then I can go back alone." Booker suggested at once. "I saved you, I can save Sally…"

"No, Booker." Elizabeth placed her hand on her father's wrist. "I-I have to do this. There was a reason the Luteces found you to rescue me, not anyone else. I have to do this. I have a debt to be paid."

Booker sat back in his chair, frustration clearly written on the etched lines of his face. "Elizabeth-" He started.

"I'm scared." She cut him off. "I'm scared of losing this, but… but maybe it's for the best."

"What do you mean?" Concern had replaced the frustration on Booker's face.

"This super position… It's hard." She said in short. "You remember the Lutece twins? They had something similar. It's… it's lonely. Different. Even with you here, Booker, sometimes I feel like I'm miles and miles away. It's hard to control. And sometimes it hurts." He did not interrupt this time. "I know we've had a very…different… past." Elizabeth continued. "But what if I could, just for this once, finally be normal? We could be a normal family, Booker. And I wouldn't have to worry about all of…" she held her head in her hands "All of this."

Booker leaned over the table and took both of her hands in his own. "Are you sure you want that?"

Elizabeth bit her lip and shook her head. "No."

"But you still think it's what you need to do?" She nodded.

They sat in silence for a moment, each waiting for the other to come up with an answer they did not have.

"If you did go back…" Booker spoke at last. "I would go with you."

"No, Booker."

"This isn't a question, Elizabeth!" Somehow anger seemed like Booker's normal tone. "You said you needed help and I'm not leaving you alone in a place where you've already died once!"

"If I go to save Sally, there will be no way back out." Elizabeth stopped him, her voice as stern as his. "I won't be able to open a tear and there's no way out of that city." She had yet to explain Rapture to her father, but he would learn that she was right. "I need you to stay here and get me out of there once I'm done." Elizabeth spoke quickly now to avoid interruption. "The Lutece device or the Luteces themselves are the only other ones who can open up tears. I need you to be able to open one to get me out."

"Elizabeth how could I-"

"I have a plan, Booker. At least hear me out." Elizabeth was even more stubborn than her father when she wanted to be.

Booker sighed. "Alright."

"Let me show you the possibilities." Elizabeth's voice suddenly sounded more far off than it ought. Booker blinked, and when he opened his eyes it was night. He found himself standing on smooth stone. They were at the foot of a towering lighthouse. Without asking how, Booker followed his daughter through the door they found there.


	8. Chapter 8: This Was a Stupid Plan

**Chapter 8: This Was a Stupid Plan.**

"You do realize how stupid this is, don't you?" Booker's voice was irritated beyond belief. He wanted to support her, but this idea was insane.

"I have to try!" Elizabeth was more defiant than she had ever been towards him – and this was the girl who once summoned a tornado, just in case he tried to stand in her way.

"There has to be another way, Elizabeth!" They were back in his office. Elizabeth was pacing and Booker was sitting on his desk hoping that she would not do anything rash like try and run away.

"Like what, Booker?" She snapped.

"I don't know. But if you go back there alone, you'll die. You know that!" Booker was trying to be reasonable.

"There is a chance!" Elizabeth protested.

"Yeah, well there's a chance that Hell will freeze over too!" Booker threw his hands up. "I don't care how much you plan now, you know you will forget it the moment you wake up in Rapture. It won't do you any good and there's practically no way that all that will fall back in place just right."

"I have to try."

"I'm not saying you shouldn't save her, Elizabeth. But don't throw your life away!" Booker tried to stay perfectly calm. "We'll find another way. Just take a breath…" Elizabeth begrudgingly complied. "…and we'll figure something out."

Booker tried to clear his mind of all the failed suggestions he had come up with so far; he was not cut out for this sort of thing. Elizabeth was the one with the crazy plans that always worked. He was just the man who pulled the trigger. "What… What would your books say we should do?" he asked. She was always talking about her books.

"They don't write books on how to not die in the most dangerous part of Rapture, Booker." She answered in frustration.

"Stories then. You can see all the possible worlds. There must be someone else who's been through Rapture – what about that Jack guy?" Booker tried to point out. Elizabeth had showed him Rapture's story. "What would he do?"

"Jack's whole life was a manipulation. Atlas guided him through nearly the whole thing. Plus, he's got Andrew Ryan's DNA. He was engineered for this from birth, Booker. I don't have or want anything like that." Elizabeth was not trying to belittle Jack, she greatly admired the man, but this train of thought was not helping her save Sally.

"There must have been others – was Jack really the only man to come uninvited to Rapture from the world above?" Booker asked.

"Well," Elizabeth thought through the stories she could see. "There was Johnny Topside."

"What happened to him?"

"He was turned into a Big Daddy; Subject Delta, part of the Alpha series. He was killed before the civil war on Rapture." She told him objectively. She had looked through the history and possible future of Rapture before. "Although…" She stopped. Perhaps Booker was on to something.

"What?"

"In some worlds, Subject Delta comes back." Her voice was far off, and Booker could tell she was examining the story of this possible world again.

"Show me?" He took her hand. It may not help, but it was something, and better than pacing around his office. Elizabeth opened a tear back into the sea of the multiverse and they watched how things might unfold.

"That Dr. Tenenbaum character, what happens to her?" Booker asked as he was shown the story by Elizabeth's side. She redirected them in order to answer.

"In some worlds, Dr. Tenenbaum makes it out. And she returns years later to save all of the Little Sisters from Sophia Lamb. She escapes and creates a cure for ADAM sickness…" All of these names and terms were far clearer to Elizabeth than to Booker but he tried to follow along.

"And Subject Delta?" He got them back on track. Something about this Subject Delta felt right to him. Maybe it was just that the man was a father fighting to save his daughter from where she had been locked away by a parent who claimed it was for her own good. Maybe he saw himself in Delta. But something about Johnny Topside gave him hope.

"In worlds in which Delta lives, there is a small chance that he finds Eleanor." Elizabeth said, growing more interested in this Delta as she reviewed his story. "But, it is a constant that if he finds her he will die getting her out."

"He gets her out, though." Booker pointed out approvingly. "What about Eleanor? What happens to her?" Booker only reached each part of the story as Elizabeth showed it to him. He could not see everything like she could.

"She… she drinks his ADAM." Elizabeth said, disgusted but intrigued. "It's nearly a constant." She said with some interest, looking father into the possible incident. It played out like a story in her mind.

_"I need you to guide me."_ She could hear Eleanor say. A guide; that was what Elizabeth needed. _"You will always be with me now, father. Your memories, your drives; And when I need you you'll be there on my shoulder whispering."_ Eleanor said.

"Would… would that really work?" Booker interrupted the scene. "I mean, can she do that?" he did not know much about this ADAM substance but this seemed odd, even for ADAM.

"Theoretically, yes. ADAM works its way into the biological code. And Eleanor is a suitable host." Elizabeth was quickly becoming a veritable encyclopedia of Rapture. This seemed like the millionth time she had looked for answers amongst its stories.

"A guide full of memories written right into her." Booker mused. "Could… Could we do that?"

"What?" Elizabeth turned and they were back in Booker's office again. "You want me to go find Delta or Eleanor and take their ADAM?" She looked at him like he was insane.

"No, of course not." Booker seemed sane enough. "I want you to use mine."

Elizabeth stared at him. "Booker, you don't have any ADAM." She said blankly.

"Then how do I do this?" Booker snapped his fingers and for the first time since they left Columbia, a ball of flame appeared in his hands. "From what I've seen Fink's Vigors and Ryan's Plasmids are exactly the same thing. Don't you think that if they could have made plasmids without ADAM they would have? I bet those Vigors were chock-full of the stuff." He deduced. Drinking Fink's Vigors was one of the few things that he had re-lived through directly on his way through his memories as the new and improved Booker DeWitt. "That means that I am chock-full of ADAM."

"Booker…" He had rendered his daughter speechless. There was a first time for everything. "That…that's brilliant!" She cheered. "Completely insane, but brilliant." Booker was not sure if he should smile or frown. "If you've been drinking ADAM this whole time then it's got your memories, your mind all mixed in it. And just like Eleanor, I'm your daughter" Elizabeth often talked out loud when she was thinking too fast. "If you learned what would happen in Rapture – how to achieve that one possible world where I could live and get back out – then maybe I could too. Maybe you could guide me, even if you don't come yourself. It would be weird but… but maybe, just maybe something like that would work."

"You think it's worth a shot?" She was far more excited about this new idea than even he was, but that seemed to generally be the case.

"It won't be easy." Elizabeth tried to think seriously on the matter. "And if it'll hurt you then I don't want to do it. But… maybe… No matter what, we need to start by going over the plan. There is one possible world in which I could somehow manage to get Jack to Rapture and make it out alive… or mostly alive. You need to learn it."

Elizabeth had already brought them back to the lighthouse. "Come on, let's go right now!" She cheered, and dragged her father by the hand into the multiverse. He smiled at the abrupt change in her attitude. This is what happened when he gave her hope.


	9. Chapter 9: A New Old Friend

**Chapter 9: A New Old Friend**

Dr. Brigid Tenenbaum was having a very good and completely normal day, thank you very much. That was until a glowing blue portal opened up inside of her laboratory, of course, and two strangers stepped through with questions about Rapture and ADAM; the two subjects she would never discuss with a stranger if her life was at stake.

The way that she pulled a pistol on them at first sight was, admittedly, not the way Dr. Tenenbaum typically greeted guests. The way that Booker placed himself in between her and Elizabeth, however, was fairly standard.

"Easy!" The man shouted, shoving himself in front of his daughter and raising his hands to show he was unarmed. Elizabeth had made him leave his own pistol behind.

"We need your help!" Elizabeth shouted at the same time.

"How did you get here?" Brigid had not lowered the gun. "How did you find me?"

"We're not here to hurt you." Booker insisted.

"We're friends." Elizabeth tried to assure.

"How am I supposed to know that?" Brigid spat back. It was obvious that she was quite used to being disappointed by so-called 'friends'.

"Look, just put that down and we'll talk." Booker was not making anything better, but he was trying.

"We're trying to help Jack." Elizabeth said as Booker was talking. It was this that stopped the German scientist.

"Jack Ryan?" Tenenbaum paused, but only for a moment. "How do you know of him?"

"It's… a long story." Elizabeth answered. "But Jack Ryan is – was - the only hope that Rapture had."

"That man is an… an angel." Tenenbaum agreed, the fierceness in her voice faltering again. "Do not tell me that he is in trouble now."

"I'm sure Jack is doing fine." Elizabeth said. She had taken them to a time after Jack, Eleanor, and Dr. Tenenbaum had all left Rapture behind for good. 1969, she was fairly confident.

"Then what do you want? How did you get here?" Tenenbaum was a slender, gray-haired, but strong woman, and very threatening when angry.

"We're from… the past." Elizabeth told her the truth, unbelievable as it may be. Booker shot her a look over his shoulder. "Please believe us, Dr. Tenenbaum. This is as important for your sake as it is for ours."

"I'm listening." The scientist said. She lowered the gun, but did not put it down.

Elizabeth spoke quickly. "My name is Elizabeth and this is Booker DeWitt, we came here from the past through a tear in the multiverse, and we need your help to save Rapture." Booker rolled his eyes at how ridiculous she sounded.

Tenenbaum however did not question the insanity of their origin, but only said gravely "Rapture cannot be saved."

"Dr. Tenenbaum where – when – we're from," Elizabeth was starting to understand the Lutece's frustrations with grammar. "Jack has not yet come to Rapture. And if we don't do something Jack will never come. And the Little Sisters-"

"Will not be saved." Tenenbaum finished. She had considered what would have happened to Rapture without Jack many times. "You came from Rapture?" She still sounded scared of them.

"No. But…" Elizabeth sighed. "It's a long story."

"I would hear it." Tenebaum replied. "It's not every day my lab is invaded by people claiming to be from the past." At long last the geneticist put down her pistol.

"Y-You believe us?" Booker's eyes opened in surprise as he finally lowered his hands.

"Should I not?" She looked them up and down. "I don't know who you are, but you are different. Not like others. Being from the past might do that. Perhaps you are lying. Or perhaps you belong to one of those fools, the likes of Ryan, Fontine, or Lamb. But if you are not and what you say is true-" She considered for a moment. "No one shall ever say that I now had the chance to help Rapture, to help Jack Ryan, and I did not. My sins toward that city and that man are too many to count. I will not add another."

"Thank you, Dr. Tenenbaum." Elizabeth pushed past her father. "I knew you would help us."

Tenenbaum nodded, but tentatively. "You," She motioned to Booker "You have ADAM in your blood. I can see it in your eyes, in your skin." Booker nodded. "If you've come for more or to find its secrets you have come to the wrong place."

"No, Ma'am, I-" Booker tried to protest.

"But," Tenenbaum cut him off "If you've come to seek help, to seek escape as I hope you may have, you have come at a good time. I have been developing a cure for ADAM sickness but have few to test it on outside of Rapture."

"That is not-" Booker soon found his daughter's elbow digging sharply into his ribs. "That sounds wonderful." He corrected with a false smile. "And I would be happy to help. But we have something else to ask."

"Yes?" Tenenbaum was still skeptical.

"We need your help," Elizabeth said, "transferring his ADAM into me."

Tenenbaum's brow furrowed in surprise and Booker nodded to make sure she knew that giving up his ADAM was what he wanted too. "Why would you do this to yourself, child?" Tenenbaum seemed earnestly concerned about Elizabeth's mental health. "And you," she looked past Elizabeth to Booker "I have never known a man to give up ADAM so willingly."

"I don't care about my vigors – plasmids – powers –" Booker searched for the right word. "I'd give them all up to help her."

"And I need his help." Elizabeth started where Booker left off. "I have to go back to Rapture," She tried to explain. "And I know that consuming someone else's ADAM can give me their memories, their minds, alongside my own." Tenenbaum seemed surprised by her knowledge. Elizabeth also seemed far too comfortable with this idea. "I need Booker's help, I need his memories in my head."

Tenenbaum stared at them for a while longer, perhaps wondering if this whole conversation was nothing more than a strange dream. "May I ask why?" She said after an uncomfortable silence.

"Of course." Elizabeth smiled. "I told you we are from the past. Well, using our… time machine…" She looked at Booker, who nodded. "We've seen what will happen to Rapture if Jack Ryan is brought down and what happens if he isn't. And without our help Jack will never have come." Elizabeth once again found her tenses jumbled terribly. "I have to go back and make sure that Jack is sent down, and because of the time machine I know how to do it. But because of the way the… time machine… works, if I go back to Rapture now I will forget. I'll lose my memories and I won't remember how to help Jack." She summarized.

"But if I stay out of Rapture and Elizabeth goes back with my memories she should be able to make sure Jack gets to Rapture." Booker added. It was not the exact truth, but it was close enough.

"Booker can also get me back out of Rapture when we're done with the… time machine." Tenenbaum was nodding, but looked as though she knew they were not telling the full truth.

"And," Booker added "If you can help us and our plan works, then after Elizabeth gets Jack down to Rapture and I get her out we can come back to help you test your new cure."

Elizabeth shot him a look which seemed to say _"You know I won't be able to open a tear back here after all of this is done."_

Booker returned her look with a fleeting glance that might have meant _"We'll think of something."_

"You will give up your ADAM after all is done?" Tenenbaum asked them both as they silently conspired.

"Yes." "Every drop." Elizabeth and Booker said at once.

An awkward silence followed as Tenenbaum considered the intruders into her lab. Booker was practically holding his breath. This had to work. He and Elizabeth had heavily discussed how they were going to convince Tenenbaum to help them. Things were not going exactly to plan, but he hoped that their combined explanation and offer would be enough.

"Very well." The scientist said at last. "No one who is lying makes up stories as mad as all of that. You may both be insane, but I see no harm in the procedure, though I do not recommend it. If you are convinced it is what is needed I will help you. So long as you promise to come back."

"We promise." "Of course!" the two answered simultaneously again.

"ADAM has done no one any good since it was discovered." Tenenbaum said regretfully. "Perhaps this once it will be of use. But you will come back and you will give it up before you become addicted and lose the power to do so." She told them. It was not a request.

"Yes ma'am." Booker nodded dutifully. Elizabeth looked close to hugging Dr. Tenenbaum, but she restrained herself.

"First I need to know if such a transfer as you request will even work. Come here, Mr…"

"DeWitt." Booker obeyed, and was soon being examined and having a small amount of blood drawn.

"And you are his-" Tenenbaum looked up to Elizabeth as she worked.

"His daughter." Elizabeth supplied. Tenenbaum nodded.

"That will do nicely, I think. It will only take a few moments to complete the tests."

Booker took the time to appreciate his vigors for the last time. They had served him well, and he would miss a few of them he was sure. But he knew it would be worth it.


	10. Chapter 10: Hello, Father

**Chapter 10: Hello, Father.**

"How is that?" Dr. Tenenbaum asked, monitoring Booker's heart rate and watching his eyes for pupil dilation.

"Better." He breathed out in a sigh. But it was not very much better from the looks of things.

"You said you would come back after your dealings in Rapture." Dr. Tenenbaum began as she cleaned up some of her equipment. "But seeing as only one of you is going, I would suggest that Mr. DeWitt say here for a time to be monitored just in case. It has been some time since I have seen anyone looking as healthy and as human as you do with this much ADAM in their blood. All the same, you may have an… adverse reaction. Your symptoms will take time to subside and they may return in the next few days." Booker's left hand was still visibly shaking, and the nausea he was experiencing was evident in his eyes.

"But he'll be alright." Elizabeth, who was standing by her father's side, her hand on his quivering arm, asked.

"In time." Dr. Tenenbaum reassured her. "You are the one I am worried about now, child." She motioned for Elizabeth to sit down in a chair similar to the one her father was occupying.

The sight of her seat and the apparatuses around it alone made Elizabeth nauseous. She swallowed hard as she forced herself to sit down, trying to remember that this was not Comstock House. Dr. Tenenbaum would not hurt her.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Tenenbaum picked up on her nerves. "It is not too late to turn back. ADAM is… a beast of a thing."

"I'm fine." Elizabeth insisted. "Just… just promise me that this will work. I don't need any plasmids, I just need Booker. He can get me through Rapture. He'll know what to do." The man in question looked close to passing out, but he tried to give her some support. All he could manage was a grim smile.

"He is your father." Tenenbaum comforted. "That should make this simpler. You already share much of his DNA." She readied the large syringe with which she had drawn out Booker's ADAM "Now I don't want you taking any more of this than is needed. Mr. DeWitt had far more than enough ADAM in his system to capture the memories you say you need." They had opted for injection over consumption for more immediate effects. "Are you ready?"

"I'm ready." Elizabeth steeled herself as Dr. Tenenbaum pushed the needle into her arm. The scientist pumped a tiny amount of the bright red substance into her blood.

Elizabeth screamed, her vision flashing red and fire shooting up her veins. "You're alright." Tenenbaum's voice tried to pierce through the pain. She pumped another small amount of ADAM into Elizabeth's arm. "Your biological code is being re-written. This is not a plasmid, it should not have any specific effects. Your body does not know how to apply it, but your immune system should calm down soon." Elizabeth had now received roughly one tenth of Booker's ADAM. After the initial shock had passed, Dr. Tenenbaum's word was proven true. Though her heart rate was still erratic, the pain began to subside.

"How do I know if it's working?" Elizabeth was trying to keep her eyes open now.

"When you begin to know things that you did not." Tenenbaum answered.

"Like what?" Elizabeth bit her lip as she received another tiny dose.

"What's my birthday?" Booker suggested from across the room.

"A-April…" Elizabeth answered. "April Nineteenth."

"That's right." Booker confirmed, still struggling just to talk. Tenenbaum did not ask why Elizabeth would only just now have learned her father's birthday. "My mother's name?"

"M…" Elizabeth stained her mind. "Molly? No. Margret. They called her Maggie."

"Good." She heard her father's voice. "Alright let's try a story. How about your mother? When did I meet her?"

"It was… it was New Year's Eve." It took longer this time, but once she found it the knowledge came as easily as if she had been told since her childhood. "She was a waitress. And you… you stopped a drunkard who was yelling at her. She bought you a drink and… you bought her dinner the next night."

"Alright." Booker's voice was sounding stronger now. "Without looking through the possibilities, what were you doing when I first saw you in that tower?"

"I was reading, you fell in through the ceiling and- no." Elizabeth stopped. "I was… I was daydreaming." She said. "About Paris. You saw me through the mirror. I opened a tear."

"You almost got yourself killed." Booker told her, sounding more like a father than she had ever heard him. "What number did I pick at the Columbia raffle?"

"77." Elizabeth reported automatically.

"There you go." She could hear him smiling. Elizabeth opened her eyes as she felt her father's hand on her arm.

"Booker?" He looked far healthier than he had a moment ago.

"No." He told her with a smile as her vision cleared. "Just a voice in your head."

Elizabeth blinked and saw Booker still sitting a few feet away, slumped in a chair behind Dr. Tenenbaum.

"Elizabeth?" He looked concerned.

"What was the last thing you asked me, Booker?" Elizabeth had to catch her breath.

"About your mother." He said. "What was all that about Paris?"

Elizabeth smiled. "It's working, Dr. Tenenbaum."

"I should hope so." The scientist answered, "You've only taken about one half of your father's ADAM but it's far more than people normally take for their first dose." She carefully removed the syringe and bandaged Elizabeth's arm. "How do you feel?"

"Like I've swallowed fire." Elizabeth told her. "Like I've got someone else's head in my own." She raised her hand to her face, half expecting to find her nose bleeding. It was not the same thing as experiencing other versions of herself. It was like being actively told a story, as if her father was talking to her directly. It scared her to think that she was hallucinating, that no one else saw what she did. But Elizabeth was somewhat used to seeing things that no one else could see. The tears, the other worlds, she could show them to others but she knew that no one else could see them on their own.

Dr. Tenenbaum immediately began to examine Elizabeth's health. Booker forced himself from his chair and drug himself to his daughter's side.

"Sit down, Mister DeWitt." He was told, but paid no heed.

"Are you alright?" he asked Elizabeth, "Are you sure this was a good idea?"

"I'm sure." She told him. "If I'm going to Rapture I'll need all the help I can get. I need you here and there. Now you can be two places at once."

"I won't be able to protect you, Elizabeth. Don't forget that." He took her hand in his own.

"But you'll be able to save me," She told him. "Just like you always have."

"If you are still set on going back to Rapture." Dr. Tenenbaum interrupted them. "You'd best do so quickly. The faster your return the easier your recovery will be."

"Thank you, Dr. Tenenbaum." Elizabeth said earnestly as she stood to her feet, adjusting her sleeve over the bandage on her arm. "Thank you for helping me and my father. We are in your debt." Elizabeth, to the German scientist's extreme surprise, leaned forward to hug her.

Tenenbaum accepted the gesture somewhat stiffly. "You… you are welcome." She said. "But you will not owe me anything so long as you come back. All I want is to help undo what I've done by helping as many as I came overcome the ADAM sickness. As for your father," She turned to Booker "It would be best for you to remain here, if that is possible."

"No, I need to go with-" Elizabeth pressed her hand to his chest.

"Booker, I think you should stay."

"Elizabeth!"

"I'll be fine. And… you'll be with me." She smiled. "But you need to rest, and you promised Dr. Tenenbaum to help her research. You can't do that if you're running after me."

"Elizabeth," He tried to scold.

"I'll be back soon. Before I go to Rapture. There's just one final arrangement." She told him and opened up a tear. "Thank you for taking care of him, Dr. Tenenbaum."

"Is this your time machine, then?" Tenenbaum questioned, intrigued but suspicious. Both DeWitts were still surprised at how well Tenenbaum was accepting that fact.

"Elizabeth!" Booker called after her again in frustration, but she continued addressing the German scientist.

"Sort of." Elizabeth said in short and stepped quickly through the tear before Booker could stand up and stop her. "I'll see you soon!"

Booker cursed as he and Dr. Tenenbaum stared after her.

"You seem to have a great deal of explaining to do, Mr. DeWitt. Your daughter is by far the strangest girl I have ever met, and that is saying a lot."


	11. Chapter 11: One Final Arrangement

**Chapter 11: One Final Arrangement.**

"How are we going to get back?" Booker asked, exasperated.

"I don't know. You were the one who offered." His daughter chided in response.

"You saw that it was the only reason that she agreed to help us." He said in his defense.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. It had not been twenty minutes and she was already arguing with the voice in her head. They were back in Booker's apartment office now, or rather she was. _He_ was still with Dr. Tenebaum, and she knew that fully well.

The Booker who was not Booker sighed. "We haven't even figured out how I'm going to get you out of there, Elizabeth. Now we have to figure out a trip to Tenenbaum's and back?"

"You could just stay there while I'm in Rapture, you know." Elizabeth quipped to the voice in her head. She was glad that no one else was around to hear her. "But we'll figure that out later. First we need the Lutece's help. Only they will be able to open up tears once I cannot." They had been over this before.

"But what are we supposed to do? Call them? Can they be… be summoned?" Booker sounded so utterly like himself that it was jarring. "How do we even know that they'll help us?"

"I've got an idea how to get their attention." Elizabeth told him, "As for how to get their help… I don't know." She admitted.

"Could we bribe them?" Booker figured. "I don't even know what it is they could want."

"Or we could just tell them the truth." Elizabeth knew the Luteces better than Booker, though he had arguably spent more time in their company. She, on the other hand, had spent the better part of her formative years reading every one of their books. "Come on, we have to get their attention first."

Elizabeth waved her hand and Booker's apartment door suddenly led into the Luteces' own: to the Luteces' old laboratory in Emporia, just as they found it before. It was dark and cluttered, its occupants having not excepted to leave in the manner or time in which they did. The whole space was absolutely dedicated to the huge device which took up nearly half of the house, and even though she had never seen it powered up, it felt eerie that the floor did not vibrate under the sprawling machinery. Though the multiple generators spread throughout the house were silent the device itself crackled ominously; evidence, Elizabeth knew, of the engineered 'accident' which had done away with its creators. Or done something to them, at any rate.

"What are we doing here, Elizabeth? It's not like they still live here." Booker touched the thin layer of dust coating all horizontal surfaces, though none came off on his immaterial finger.

"But I bet they still care about this." Elizabeth was tracing the length of one of the huge power lines tied to the machine and examining the arch in the middle of what ought to have been the dining room. She looked back at Booker. He looked frightened by the device. He watched his daughter from a distance as she poked around it.

"Could you get me some light?" Elizabeth asked, not looking away from one of the arms of the machine.

"No." Booker reminded her. "I'm just a voice in your head, remember?"

"Right." Elizabeth stood to flick on the many lamps which littered the room. She did her best to bring in more light through the windows which seemed to have been intentionally muted by the use of some sort of film.

Imaginary Booker's nerves were somehow getting better of him. Elizabeth wondered if it was really her own nervousness talking or really was what Booker would be doing if he were really with her. "Elizabeth… are you sure it's safe to be standing there?" She was standing directly underneath the humming disc which still sparked erratically.

"The power is off, Booker." She reminded herself without looking up from her work fiddling with the base of the device.

"Elizabeth this thing killed the Luteces." Booker reminded her, though there was no need. "Are you sure you should be-"

"It's off, Booker." She said again with more emphasis. "I'm trying to figure out a way to turn it back on."

This did little to improve Booker's mood, imaginary as it was. He began to object when she straightened up and looked him in the eye.

"Do you trust me?" It was something that, despite all they had been through, she had never asked him before.

"Well, I'm in your head, so yes." The image of Booker answered flatly. "But if you're wondering" He continued in a softer tone "the real Booker would trust you too."

"Then have a little faith." Elizabeth felt like she was scolding herself, mostly because she was. "Read me that list of numbers written there." She pointed to a corner of the blackboard and knelt back down.

"I can't read 'em unless you look." Booker protested. "Haven't got my own eyes in the room, since you left me in 1969." He said somewhat bitterly.

Elizabeth had never realized how annoying her father was. She examined the numbers herself and then examined the machine. She pushed a couple of buttons, which made Booker jump, though the machine did not react at all.

"That must have been it." She said as she stood up. "Fink offset the resistors; he rigged the machine to overload."

"Aaand will it now?"

"Only one way to find out!" Elizabeth stepped out from under the arch and ran to the first of the generators.

"Elizabeth!" She turned it on and ran across to the next. It was quite odd to be chased around by a figment of one's own mind. "Elizabeth what are you doing?" He would soon be drowned out by the motors that surrounded them throughout the house, had he actually been making any sound.

"It's fine, Booker!" She called as she raced up the stairs.

"You don't know that!" He did not follow her, though of course the voice in her head did. "Elizabeth! Elizabeth turn it off!"

"I haven't even turned it on yet." Elizabeth was far too happy as she crossed back down the stairs and came much too close to the controls. The sound was deafening now. "Come here." She pulled him along with her, not stopping to wonder if her fingers actually found purchase in his sleeve. "Which of these do you think it is?"

"What?!" He shouted over the racket. "You mean you don't know?" He looked down at the controls. It was fairly obvious which lever was the one which powered the machine on and off. It was one of five, but it was the biggest. "That one." He pointed.

Booker had made his point rather clear, but a second later Elizabeth's hand reached instead for the lever next to the one he had clearly indicated. She had a maddening smile on her face.

"Elizabeth!" Booker sounded sure they were going to die.

"I really wouldn't touch that if I were you." A calm female voice said behind them, just loud enough to be heard over the racket.

"I wouldn't have touched any of it, if I were her." A male voice followed. Elizabeth never pulled the lever. She had never had the intention too.

She turned around quickly with an all-too-pleased smile on her face. "Lutece!" She cheered, feigning surprise, and doing an intentionally poor job. "Just the person I wanted to see." Booker, who was invisible to the Luteces, stared between the three of them for a moment then nearly rolled his eyes. She had played them. He vanished from her sight and stopped talking while the three had their conversation.

"Yes, well, you've done your work to get us here. If you'll kindly remove your hand from our device..." Rosalind sounded just as stern as ever.

The Luteces were not truly in the room but rather on the far side of a tear, which appeared to be stable enough. They made no effort to join Elizabeth in their lab for the same reason that Elizabeth had to be careful returning to Rapture. They had, after all, died in this very room.

"And perhaps power down the house." Robert added at a low shout. "We wore earplugs when working for a reason, you know." The twins did not seem fazed by the noise but it was making communication difficult, so Elizabeth quickly did as she was told.

"Now, what is all this about?" Robert asked as she returned to look through the tear which they stood on the other side of.

"I need your help." She promptly sat herself down on the edge of Rosalind's desk, arms crossed over her chest.

"How?" Robert answered incredulously.

"You do not appear to need our help or our device." Rosalind added, clearly perturbed by Elizabeth's treatment of her furniture, no matter that she was no longer using it herself.

"You certainly did not need our help getting your father back." Her brother continued.

"That was quite a feat to behold." Rosalind almost smiled. Almost. She seemed nearly proud of Elizabeth's abilities.

"Indeed. He handled the procedure far better than I myself faired crossing realities for the first time." Robert continued. Elizabeth almost thought that Rosalind cast her eyes down a bit at this, though her brother stood undisturbed by the memory.

"Your notes helped." Elizabeth replied. "It's a shame you can't publish a book on the topic."

"I assure you, you'd be the only one who would care to read it." Robert said dryly.

"Or at least the only one to understand." Rosalind confirmed. "But back to the matter at hand. How could you need our help?"

"I need to go back." Elizabeth told them. "Back to Rapture, to the place that I died."

The response was raised eyebrows.

"I know what will happen." Elizabeth continued in case they doubted. "And I'm willing to make that sacrifice."

The Lutece twins simply stared once more. "May I ask why?" Rosalind said at length.

Elizabeth looked down and slipped off of the desk. "You saw what I did there." A great gravity settled on Elizabeth's voice. "I left Sally there to die."

"You died yourself. You could not have-"

"But I can now." Elizabeth cut Robert off. "I know the possibilities that may come to Rapture. In most of them nothing changes, but in at least one world the cycle of violence can end: the world in which I go back."

"Elizabeth, you cannot possibly blame yourself for-" Robert tried to deter her again.

"Yes. I can." Elizabeth would not be moved. "Just as much as you blamed yourself for what happened to Booker and me." She knew that would hit a deep nerve with Robert, though perhaps not with his twin. It was one of the very few things which seemed to set them apart.

Robert began to say something in response but closed his mouth before he did. Rosalind sighed heavily.

"And what would be our part in all of this?" She asked in a long suffering fashion.

"To get me back out." Elizabeth replied. "I need you to open up a tear so that Booker can pull me through once I'm finished."

"Is that all?" Rosalind did not seem to believe her.

"And…" Elizabeth was now practicing her puppy eyes. "A quick trip to 1969 and back?"

"What in heaven do you want to go to 1969 for?" Robert protested.

"It's a long story. Booker is there now." Elizabeth admitted sheepishly, tucking her hair behind her ear.

Both of the Luteces shook their heads to themselves, looking altogether like a pair of exhausted parents.

"If we agree to this…" Robert started.

"And that's not to say that we will."

"Will you be satisfied?"

"Satisfied?" Elizabeth questioned.

"We seem to owe you a debt, Ms. DeWitt." Rosalind answered. "If we do this, can we assume that you and your father will be returned to your normal lives-"

"-In your normal world-"

"-which we parted you from?"

Elizabeth had never considered it like this. Is that how things had been this entire time? "…Yes." She replied at last. She had not considered the life that she and Booker would live if all of this really did work out.

"And if we don't agree?" Rosalind ventured.

"Then Booker and I will use your device to see what we can arrange. There was a world in which you opened a tear to Rapture once. We will see about doing it again." Elizabeth's confidence was restored.

"I seriously doubt you could-"

"Don't bother doubting her, brother. She will only prove you wrong." Rosalind turned back to Elizabeth. "Very well." She said. "Do not bother with the machine. It has served its purpose. And we will serve yours." Elizabeth face lit up. "I will not say I support the endeavor." Rosalind continued with a frown, "As I still believe it to be completely ill-advised."

"But if this is what you really do want, for whatever misled reason," Robert continued.

"We will lend you our aid."

"Oh thank you, thank you!" Elizabeth cheered.

"Shall we meet you in 1969, then?" Rosalind seemed to do the opposite of cheering.

"Not the worst year you could have picked."

"Yes, Booker is at Dr. Tenenbaum's-" But the pair was already gone.


	12. Chapter 12: A Family Affair

**A/N:** I have to add a warning to this chapter and those which follow. This is where this story went rather off it's rails. I had never planned for the fic to go in this direction, but it did and there was naught I could do to stop it. I am sorry if any of this sound or feels OOC. I have no idea how to write 12 year olds.

* * *

**Chapter 12: A Family Affair**

"So… you believe me?" Booker took a sip of his drink. It was only water, unfortunately. Dr. Tenenbaum had insisted that he refrain from alcoholic beverages until she could see more of the results of her ADAM removal procedure. Other than that he quite liked the woman.

"I will admit that it is among the stranger stories I have heard." The German scientist had spent half of her day doing the work she had originally come to her laboratory to do. The rest was spent listening to Booker DeWitt's crazy life story and monitoring him for signs of withdrawal. His body was doing remarkably well, and, she suspected, his mind was too. One had to be near insane to come up with a story like the one Booker spun, but it was a story that made sense, in some strange fashion. "If what you say is true, you have in your own way witnessed the city in which I spent what feels like the majority of my life." She continued, and Booker nodded. "I am no physicist, Mr. DeWitt, but despite its oddity your story reminds me of another which I have heard."

Booker laughed. "I'd like to hear that."

"I suspect you already have." Tenenbaum answered. "Since you know the name of Jack Ryan."

"Oh," Booker took another sip of what he wished were beer. He knew less of Jack's story than she suspected. Elizabeth was the one that knew all of the stories. "Still, time travel." Booker stressed. "I don't think I ever would have believed that if I hadn't done it myself."

"And I did not think that men could shoot flames from their fingers until I helped them do it." Booker could never tell if Tenenbaum was being lighthearted or deadly serious, especially when it came to discussing ADAM. "When I was a girl scientists laughed at the idea of telekinesis. But you and I have seen it firsthand."

"Did you ever…?"

"Splice?" Tenenbaum finished for him. They used different words in Columbia and Rapture. "No. A scientist who tests on herself is a desperate case indeed. Even after we saw what ADAM could do, I could never stand to take my own medicine. I was too aware of the risks… and the source."

"I never thought of where it came from until…" Booker did not need to go on. "I wonder where they got it in Columbia."

"Probably from me." Dr. Tenenbaum answered him, a bit distracted. "I can't think of another source. The way you describe this Columbia of yours, and these tears, I'd wager that the worlds were connected far more deeply than you realized. This Fink, perhaps. I wouldn't be surprised if he knew the name of Frank Fontaine. Ryan banned ADAM's sale to the surface, so Fontaine started selling to the past."

Booker nodded. He had no doubt that what she said was true. "The people in Columbia did not seem like mutants, though. Not most of them." He thought of the firemen and the zealots, but not many others. Not like those beasts he had seen when Elizabeth showed him Rapture. "I suppose the Vigors were not so widely supplied."

"Or perhaps they were feared, as they should be." Tenenbaum said a bit distractedly. She was running some tests on Booker's blood to make sure that all of his ADAM was gone. "You held up surprisingly well to them yourself. You are a strong man, much like Jack."

"Hm." Booker made a noise of vague thanks or agreement, taking another sip of his drink. Alongside his daughter in the sea of doors he had witnessed the end of Jack Ryan's story and its beginning, but never the man himself. Not really. "Since we have time," He ventured, "I would like to hear the story from you."

Dr. Tenenbaum glanced at her watch. "Your daughter has been away for longer than you realize, Mr. DeWitt."

"What time is it?"

"Late." Dr. Tenenbaum replied. Booker realized that what she had been doing for the past twenty odd minutes was cleaning up. "Time for dinner, in fact."

"Oh." Booker stood awkwardly. "I'm sure Elizabeth will be back soon, I didn't mean to-"

"It is alright." Tenenbaum brushed a lose strand of hair behind her ear and exchanged her lab coat for a jacket. "Come. I have a dinner invitation tonight that I cannot miss."

"I couldn't-"

"Nonsense." Tenenbaum was a hard woman to argue with "There is always extra room at Jack Ryan's table. I will call ahead and ask him to set one place more."

The next half hour or so was one of the more awkward yet thrilling half hours Booker had ever experienced. He pretended that it was not his first time to ride in a machine such as Dr. Tenenbaum's automobile, and he pretended that the ride neither frightened nor excited him immensely. He had ridden in an automobile before. He had even driven one once. But nothing like this. He had forgotten that he was nearly sixty years ahead of his time, and this was a terrific reminder.

He learned from Tenenbaum over the course of the drive that they were actually in New York State, though some seventy miles from New York City. Booker liked it out here. It made him wonder again what would become of his life after Elizabeth got back.

He knew which house it was before they turned into the driveway, mostly because of the tree house mounted like a guard post in the front yard and the two girls peeking out of it. When they saw the car both stood up and cheered, waving and clambering down the tree. One ran straight for the car as Dr. Tenenbaum parked, a huge smile on her face, and the other ran to the house, knocking on the window as she passed and shouting "Mama Tenenbaum is here!"

Tenenbaum was greeted with a fierce hug as she climbed out of her car. Booker was slower to get out. A stranger in the midst of a family, he took his time observing and tried to blend in to the background.

The girl hugging Tenenbaum raced back towards the house excitedly, waving at them to follow. Soon Booker could see that at least four more girls were coming out the door to greet them, in the midst of whom was a smiling young man in an argyle sweater.

The girls were significantly older than Booker expected. He had forgotten again that this was 1969. They looked collectively to be around 12 years of age, some older and some younger, and all as different as could be. None of them looked like their father, and none of them really looked like each other. If Booker hadn't known better he would have thought they were having dinner at an orphanage. But he had heard enough of Jack Ryan to know that this was, if nothing else, a family.

"Jack," Dr. Tenenbaum greeted the young man warmly and with a brief hug. She was a thin, world weary woman and he a strong, vibrant young man. He greeted her like his mother, and his children like their grandmother. "I am sorry for the late notice," she continued, "but I had a guest in my office today. This," she turned back "Is Booker DeWitt." She then whispered something in Jack's ear that Booker guessed was the fact that he knew about Rapture.

Regardless of what the good doctor said, Jack extended his hand. "Pleased to meet you." His handshake was firm and his voice deeper than Booker expected. It did not seem to match his young face.

"You as well." Booker was still a bit overwhelmed by the far too many young teenagers running around.

"Hi Mr. DeWitt!" One of the girls next to Jack cheered. "I'm Leta." She stuck out her hand just as her father had and Booker shook it with a smile. The girls were very polite, but just as enthusiastic.

"Uh, nice to meet you, Leta, I'm Booker." He did not really know how to talk to these girls. Were they adults or children? Over the next several seconds this little ritual was repeated four more times as Booker was rapidly introduced to Masha, Susie, Emma, and Sally. The last of these caught his attention. She was a thin girl, blonde and shy, but healthy and happy. Booker smiled.

"Please, come in." Jack turned, but hung back to walk with Booker as Tenenbaum and the girls flowed back into the house. "Dr. Tenenbaum tells me that she is helping you with ADAM sickness. I hope you're feeling alright." He said courteously, showing genuine concern.

"I'm fine." Booker assured. "I really don't mean to intrude like this-"

"Nonsense." Jack cut him off just as Tenenbaum had before. "Anyone who has seen Rapture and come out as sane as yourself is a friend in my house. I'm sure we have more than a few stories to share."

"I would like that." Booker smiled as they went inside. It was nice to meet a man like Jack. He realized now that he had never had many friends in his life, and his recent adventures did little to remind him that there were still honest folk in the world.

"I'm sorry the place it such a mess," Jack apologized as they walked in. The house was large but humble, enough to house all five girls plus their father. It was littered with the girl's things and especially with their drawings. There seemed to be more than one artist in the family. Booker did not want to imagine the kind of man it would take to be a father to five teenage girls. But if there was anyone who could he supposed that Jack was it.

"Dinner's almost ready, I think." Jack said. One of the girls, Masha, or maybe Leta, Booker thought, was setting the table. Jack poked his head into the kitchen as he led Booker through the house and joked "Don't tell me you left the stove on to come say hi."

"No, dad!" More than one girl answered from the kitchen, sounding a bit antagonized. It was obviously a discussion they had had many times before. "I remembered."

"Good." Jack smiled as Susie ran past him to present one of her new paintings to Dr. Tenenbaum.

"Your daughters are talented." Booker noted as he caught a glimpse of the painting. It was of a sunrise over the ocean, and it was rather good. He remembered the paintings Elizabeth had made.

"Yes, they're all trying out everything these days. Painting, singing, climbing, reading, writing, cooking," he laughed. "Each one trying to find their own thing."

"My daughter seems to have gotten into lockpicking." Booker laughed gruffly and rubbed the back of his neck. What would Elizabeth have been like at this age? It made him sad that he did not know.

"Oh! Don't let them hear you say that, they'll get ideas! Thank God I haven't got one on that yet" Jack laughed.

"Dinner's ready!" One of the girls, Sally perhaps, called out, and soon everyone in the house had converged at the dining room table.

"Mr. DeWitt, before we sit down to eat, I have to ask," Jack pulled him aside for a moment and lowered his voice. "I realize the situation which brought you here, but I would appreciate it if there was no mention of Rapture or ADAM at the table. Even as long as it's been for us, the girls aren't comfortable discussing it with people they don't know."

"I understand." Booker nodded. "It shouldn't be a problem."

"Thank you." Jack said "If you'll join me for a drink after dinner, I'd love to swap stories then."

Booker nodded. A drink sounded fantastic.


	13. Chapter 13: Always a Man, Always a City

**Chapter 13: Always a Man, Always a City**

It was spaghetti night at the Ryan household. Booker learned that this was something of a bi-weekly occurrence, as Jack and his daughters took turns making dinner but a few of the girls only knew how to make one or two things. All the same it was good spaghetti, and for Booker it was the first home cooked meal he had eaten in a very, very long time. Eating with the girls was a family experience like he had never had. They were a non-stop storm of questions and stories.

After a few of their own stories which the girls had been waiting for a chance to tell Dr. Tenenbaum their curiosity concerning their new guest quickly got the best of them.

"Mr. DeWitt, how'd you meet Dr. Tenenbaum?"

"Well…"

"Mr. DeWitt, what do you do for a living?"

"That's a rather difficult-"

"Mr. DeWitt, do you have any family around-"

"Hold on!" Jack's voice of reason broke through the rapid fire onslaught. "One question at a time, let the poor man enjoy his supper."

"Sorry." A few of the girls replied. Booker was still trying to remember which one of the girls were which. They all looked so different, one would think it would be easy.

"Well, um" It had been quite some time since Booker had talked to anyone of teenage years. He wasn't quite sure if he should talk to them like children or adults. "First off, you can all just call me Booker, not Mr. DeWitt." Before they could attempt apologizing Booker continued "And I think I should answer… Susie's…" he was very proud of himself when the correct girl nodded. They seemed proud of him too. "Question first. I have a daughter." He confirmed. "A bit older than you. She's twenty-one, now. But…I didn't know her when she was your age."

"What do you mean, Mr. De- Booker?" Susie corrected mid question.

"She was taken from me when she was a baby." Booker said "And I had to go get her back."

Jack made a face of mild concern across the table, fearing that Booker's daughter had been taken to Rapture to become a Little Sister, but Booker tried to nod and belay his fears. His story involved far less of Rapture than Jack believed.

Though he had promised to share his story later with Jack Booker soon had all five girls captivated in his story of how he saved his young daughter, the heir to a throne, from a high tower guarded by a huge flying beast in a floating city in the clouds. How they found themselves in the middle of a war and they had to break holes in the walls of reality to get out. He spared them most details – he would share them with Jack later – but he could see in their faces that Elizabeth, a woman they had never met, was quickly becoming a hero in their eyes, and he along with her.

By the time Booker was finished telling his story and answering the five teenage girls' rapt questions they had been finished with their spaghetti for quite some time.

"Well," Jack stood up when the conversation finally lulled. "Masha and Susie, I think you two are in charge of the dishes tonight?"

"Yeah," The two girls said begrudgingly as everyone else stood to their feet.

"Thank you." Their father told them. "And you all have your homework done?" it was evident that Jack knew the answer before he asked, as all five girls mumbled something under their breath to the effect that no, they did not. "Well if you need any help with it, I'll be out on the porch." He turned to the other adults in the room as his daughters went off to, with any luck, do their schoolwork. "Booker, Dr. Tenenbaum, would you care to join me for a drink, and if you'd like a smoke, on the back porch?"

"Thank you, Jack. But I ought to be getting home." Dr. Tenenbaum spoke first. "It's later than I realized and I have a few things running in the lab that must be checked first thing tomorrow morning."

"Of course. We'll see you on Wednesday then, if not before?" Jack asked and gave her another quick hug. Apparently Dr. Tenenbaum spent at least two evenings a week at the Ryan house.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." She smiled. "I'll go say goodnight to the girls. And, Booker-"

"Can stay here for the night." Jack finished. "If you don't have anywhere else to be."

"Oh! Thank you." Booker had once again forgotten that he was fifty years ahead of his time and did not know another soul in this world until his daughter returned. "And, uh, thanks, Dr. Tenenbaum. I'm sure I'll see you again when Elizabeth gets back."

"Of course. Now be careful with the drink, Mr. DeWitt. And make sure to call if any of your symptoms return." Both men smiled after her as she left. She was an amazing woman.

Booker considered the relationship which the older Dr. Tenenbaum and rather young Jack shared with the five girls which called them 'mama Tenenbaum' and 'Dad'. "You seem young to have five teenagers." He said as Jack poured the drinks.

Jack laughed as he handed Booker a glass of whiskey and got one of his own. "I am. And I'm even younger than I look, or so I've been told." He sighed as they stepped out the back door. "It's a long story."

"If I'm honest, I've heard part of it already." Jack and Booker took their seats on a pair of chairs on the porch. Booker did his best to explain the circumstances that led him to a vague knowledge of Jack's adventures in Rapture, though he knew Elizabeth could do a much better job with the whole thing. Elizabeth would like Jack. This of course in turn led to Jack relating his story in full and finally to Booker filling in the details of his own.

By this time each had gone through two whiskeys and Booker through a pair of cigarettes. Jack told him that he had stopped smoking when he came back from Rapture. It took him a while, but he was now comfortable enough with it to be around other people who smoked without a problem; something of which Dr. Tenenbaum was generally very appreciative.

"You're daughter sounds like an extraordinary woman." Jack said as they finished up telling their tales.

"You have several amazing daughters of your own." The speed at which the two men had fallen into friendship was remarkable.

They talked for what might have been hours. One by one Jack's girls came out to report to their father that they had finished their homework or that they need help with it, kissed him goodnight and said a polite goodnight to 'Mr. Booker'. But despite the interruption and the occasional need to assist in solving math problems, Jack and Booker talked long into the night about everything there was to talk about. It had been a very, very long time since either had a friend who understood or resembled themselves as much as each other.

Neither of the men cared to see how late it was when Jack finally brought out a few blankets and a pillow and Booker laid down to sleep on the living room couch. It was actually one of the more comfortable beds he had been in in quite some time, even if it was a couch. All the same, and despite all he had been through, it took a very, very long time for him to fall asleep, since he kept expecting his daughter to return at any moment.

It was the next morning before she finally did.


	14. Chapter 14: The Princess Arrives

**A/N: **So this is the second to last chapter, and I still HATE the final chapter as I have it now, so it might be a bit before I finalize that. Sorry for being so inconsisten in updating this.

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**Chapter 14: The Princess Arrives**

"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad!" Booker jolted awake in the strange room. Memory returned quickly, but it did not help his confusion much. "There's someone at the door!" The voice of one of the girls rang through the house. It was far too early for this.

He could hear the heavy feet of Jack Ryan tromping down the stairs and was soon able to watch from his place on the very comfy couch as Jack tried to rub sleep from his eyes. It was far too early for this indeed.

"Thanks, sweety." Jack mumbled, and whichever of the girls was up at this ungodly hour – Booker didn't even want to guess at the moment – scurried off to whatever she had been doing before the startling guest arrived knocking.

"Um, hello?" He could hear Jack from the other room. If Booker had to guess, he would say that the man had the door about a quarter of an inch open, and still locked with a chain. It had been nearly ten years, but Jack did not like surprises. Booker understood the feeling. He had noticed the excessive amount of locks on the door when he had come in.

"Mr. Jack Ryan?" It was Elizabeth. Booker pushed himself to his feet and tried not to be too begrudging about it.

"Should I know you?" There was hesitation in Jack's reply. Jack Ryan was a very hospitable, very reasonable young man unless he was surprised. Surprises threatened Jack, and Jack had been threatened enough in his life. It was amazing the man trusted anyone at all. But a stranger who knew his full name calling at odd hours was a surprise.

"No," Elizabeth said sheepishly. "But I was hoping that-"

"Elizabeth?" Her father called from inside.

Outside the door Elizabeth bit her lip. She had become so used to responding to her father's voice in her head that for a moment she could not tell if this was a Booker that everyone else could hear as well. She did not want to react to an invisible man. A moment later however Jack turned back to see the non-invisible Booker, who nodded, and Elizabeth was let in.

"Thank you," She said automatically and then upon seeing her father – for real this time, it was easy to tell now that she saw him - "Booker!" She ran up and hugged him. It seemed like a natural thing to do, though odd, since it was only the second time they had actually embraced.

"Hey." Booker's voice was rough and his tone half asleep as he hugged her to his chest. It felt like it had been months since he had seen her. After all their many years apart it was strange that he missed her so quickly now.

"I'm sorry it's so early." His daughter turned back to Jack. "I, um, I'm not the best with precise timing yet." She said a bit awkwardly. "But it's…" She took a moment to really look Jack over for the first time. "It's an honor to meet you, sir."

"You're Booker's daughter, then" They shook hands. "I've heard a lot about you, Ms. DeWitt. And, uh, I hear you've heard about me." Jack was trying to be polite, but he was still in his nightclothes, consisting of a blue robe over red boxers, after all.

"Please call me Elizabeth." She smiled. "I suppose the Luteces haven't shown up yet." Elizabeth glanced between the two men.

"Are they-" Booker was cut off by a very familiar noise and a distinct flash of blue light.

"Dear God!" Jack nearly fell over and turned wildly at the sound. In the blink of an eye he was wielding the small gun which he apparently kept behind the door in case of emergency.

"Woah!" Booker tried to grab the revolver and lower it as Jack turned to see who the loud intruders were.

A pair of very well dressed red haired twins stood in the middle of his entryway, which had been vacant a moment before.

"I told you we should have knocked."

"Yes. Perhaps you were right." They quipped.

"It's alright, Jack. These are friends." Booker reassured him, and Jack shakily returned his gun to its hiding place.

"I'm so sorry, Jack" Elizabeth added. "We really didn't mean to abuse your hospitality or-"

"It's… it's alright." Jack nodded slowly. "These are the two you mentioned?" He turned to Booker, who seemed like an age-old friend compared to the three new people magically arrived in his home. Booker nodded. "Right. Well." Jack looked past Elizabeth for a moment and could tell that the commotion had caught the attention of everyone else in the house. "Welcome in." He said at last, ushering everyone towards the living room. "Girls, come say hello." He called to his daughters, who he knew must have been listening from just around the corner. "If you will all excuse me for a moment…" Jack said a bit awkwardly "I'm going to go get dressed. I'll give Dr. Tenenbaum a call as well."

The girls were all five already in the living room when their guests came to sit down. They looked up at the young woman in the somewhat tattered blue dress like she was unreal. "Are you Mr. Booker's daughter?" One of them asked.

"Yes."

"Are you the one that was locked in a tower?" Another voice interrupted.

"Um… Yes, I was." It took Elizabeth a moment to realize who she was talking to. The former Little Sisters were all growing up. Soon whatever touched thought she might have had at this was drowned by a storm of rapid fire questions.

"Were you scared?"

"Can you really do time travel?"

"Do you know everything?"

"Do you still like to paint?"

"Are you a princess?!"

The last question much the loudest. The girls may have nearly been teenagers, but in that moment they were children and Elizabeth was most definitely a princess.

"Sorry," Booker murmured his apology "I told them a bit of our story over dinner."

Elizabeth smiled at the girls. "Yes, Yes, No, Yes, and No." She said. The girls did not really remember the order of the questions, but they didn't mind.

"What are all of your names?" Booker realized that he had never really seen his daughter around anyone younger than herself. Though these young teenagers were not children, Elizabeth was a natural with them.

"I'm Masha," "I'm Leta!" "Susie," "My name's Emma", "I'm Sally." Elizabeth heard in quick succession. The last much the quietest.

When she heard Sally's name Elizabeth's breath caught in her throat and despite all of the girls' enthusiasm she almost broke down crying then and there. The thought of all of these girls as tormented, mutated souls. The thought of how she left Sally – this Sally, the one that stood greeting her as if she were a princess from a fairy tale - how she left her alone to burn.

"S-Sally?" Elizabeth stammered for a moment. Lightheaded and suddenly dizzy, Elizabeth thought she might faint. "Booker?" Her father's hand was on her shoulder in an instant.

"You alright?" His deep voice grounded her. As Elizabeth regained focus she could see the scared expression on Sally's face. The girl thought she had hurt Elizabeth somehow. She did not know how true the reverse was.

"Are you okay, Miss Elizabeth?" The blonde girl's small voice, matured but recognizable, asked.

Elizabeth breathed deeply and took Sally's hand. "I'm fine." She told the girl, but Sally could see the tears threatening to fall from her eyes. "I'm fine, I just… Thank you." She said earnestly. Sally did not know what she was being thanked for, but it did not matter right now.

The Luteces were nearly forgotten in all of this, even by Jack. There were very good at standing silently in the background. But they were greeted by the girls at last, or at least by one of them.

"Are you the physicists?" Emma asked.

"That is correct." Robert replied.

"Mr. Booker told us that you can disappear whenever you want and can travel in time!" Emma said excitedly.

"That is…correct." Rosalind answered. She did not seem to know how she ought to speak to the child.

"That's so cool!" Emma cheered. "Could you teach me how? You must be the smartest people in the whole world!"

Robert and Rosalind smiled.

"You are a woman of the sciences, then?" Robert asked with some pride. He knew his sister would love this.

"Well…" Emma grew suddenly shy in front of the smartest people in the world. "Math is my favorite subject in school," She said, growing excited again "And in a few weeks we're having a science fair! The teacher says I might win a prize!"

"Oh!" Rosalind was honestly intrigued. "May I see you project?"

Emma seemed torn between elation and extreme nervousness at the thought. "I-I guess… would you? It's about the periodic table."

"Well then," Robert smiled, "You may even be able to teach us a few things. It's not often we've been this far in the relative future."

Jack returned to the room just as Emma and the Luteces left it. He did not need to ask where they went, he already knew. There wasn't a book in the library science section that Emma did not want to read. She had been the one to ask all of the questions that Booker could not answer over dinner last night.

"I suppose you four need to get to Dr. Tenenbaum's office, then. Booker has told me some part of your plan." Jack addressed the group. "I gave her a call and she said she would meet us at her lab."

"Oh, do they have to go?" The four remaining girls moaned sadly and in near unison. "Why won't you let them stay?"

"It's not a matter of letting them, girls." Jack said "They have important business to take care of." Jack knew that this important business had something to do with his own past, though he did not quite know what. At this point he was used to not knowing. Jack learned long ago that one did not always need to know everything in order to choose to do the right thing.

"Well… we're not in that much of a hurry." Elizabeth said somewhat to herself. "It is time travel after all…" She looked to Booker, who did not want to tear her away from Jack's daughters any more than she wanted to leave. Jack did not seem to want to either.

"I suppose we could have breakfast, since everyone is here and up." Jack suggested. He was silently thanking God that it was a Saturday. He would never have been able to get his girls to school on time after all of this. The group, with Booker still waking up and Elizabeth still answering a thousand questions, migrated towards the kitchen where Jack immediately started brewing a pot of strong coffee. "We mostly just have cereal" he opened some cupboards. "But I could-"

"I am sure that will be fine." Booker stopped him. "We won't be in your way too much longer."

Booker had meant it as a good thing, though Jack was trying to figure out whether or not the fact made him sad. It was nice to have another person which he could share so much with. It had been far too long since he had anyone with whom he could discuss his crazy story besides Dr. Tenenbaum.

By the time they finished their breakfast Elizabeth had heard all about the girl's lives. They did not even mention the experience she knew of. It was wonderful to be able to look past such tragedy with them to the richness of their lives since.

Emma and the Luteces re-entered the room accompanied with a cry of "Daddy look!" And an explanation of some changes to her project which no one at the table truly understood.

"That's wonderful, Emma!" Jack said anyway. "Make sure and show Dr. Tenenbaum when she comes over on Wednesday. I'm sure she will love it." He offered the Luteces breakfast, but they politely declined. Booker was not sure they actually needed food.

"Well in that case I guess we should be off." Jack stood slowly. The girls began to protest so he continued "I wish you could stay longer,"

"But this is what we have to do." Elizabeth finished for him. She gave a bit of a sigh. "Alright."

"Miss Elizabeth?" Sally spoke up from beside her. "Will we ever see you again?"

Elizabeth's heart nearly broke. "I-I… I don't know." She could not bring herself to say 'no', though she knew it was the truth.

"I'll be back in just a bit, girls." Jack told them as he got his car keys.

Jack, Booker, and the Luteces were ready to walk out the door when Elizabeth stopped. "Sally? Emma, Susie, Leta, and Masha?" She addressed them each.

"Hm?" "Yes?" and "Uh-huh?" were the replies.

"May I… May I hug you?" This was very well received, and soon all five girls were group-hugging Elizabeth. It was a move they had perfected on their father over the last ten years, and though Elizabeth was a smaller figure it was a very nice experience indeed. "You girls are the most remarkable people I've ever met." She told them quietly. "The smartest, sweetest, most talented, strongest girls. You are going to be the best young women on earth. Trust me." They hugged her tighter.

As Elizabeth left their embrace and made to leave she unlatched the pin from her necklace. It was the little blue and white bird pendant that Booker had picked out at Battleship Bay. She left it with them. It seemed the least she could give them to remember her by. Now she had before her to give the most she could give to assure them the life they had.

Elizabeth sat in the back seat of Jack's van and looked out the window the whole ride to Dr. Tenenbaum's office, committing everything about those girls to memory. She would save them, she would make sure that Jack came for them. Even if it killed her.


	15. Chapter 15: Welcome to Rapture

**A/N:** Okay this is the real second-to-last chapter. Sorry it took so long, I expanded it and split it in two.

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**Chapter 15: Welcome to Rapture**

"Are you ready?" Booker's voice was deep with concern.

"No." Her voice was small, scared.

"Are you sure you still want to go through with this?" Robert prodded.

"I have a feeling you will regret it." Rosalind added, rather unhelpfully.

"I'm… I'm sure." She replied, taking a deep breath. "There is no other way. I have to do this."

"Elizabeth I can still go with you. We could-"

"No, Booker." She sighed again. "I can still see the possibilities. And… And none of them work but this. We have a plan. It will work. Jack is proof enough of that."

Now that they were at Dr. Tenenbaum's lab and out of the hearing of his children Jack had been fully informed of the truth of the matter. Elizabeth was doing this in order to bring him to Rapture. She was bringing about the most terrible thing that had ever happened to him so that he had the chance to do the greatest thing he had ever done. He had been somewhat angry at first to know that Elizabeth would helping Atlas, a man whom he could not even hear the name of without cringing. She had tried to apologize to him, but he knew it was the only way.

It had taken Booker a very long time to accept and consent to their plan when they first made it. He knew it was the only way, but seeing what would happen to his daughter, the pain Atlas would cause her, was terrible. Now that they were reviewing their plan no one in the room seemed too convinced that this was a good idea.

Elizabeth considered again just what she would be giving up if she crossed through that portal. She would never be able to open a tear again. The one thing that had given her freedom within her cage, the power which had allowed her to bring about all of this and to save her father, would be gone forever. Both she and Booker had sacrificed so much to assure her of this power, but she was about to give it up. The thought occurred to her that she still had never made it to Paris. After tonight it would be far more than a simple doorway away.

On top of that she would lose her memory of all of this. So much had happened since she was in Rapture last. She had re-met and saved her father. They had been more like a real family than they ever had. She had met Jack Ryan and his daughters. She would forget all of them if she did this now.

"We'll get you out, Elizabeth." Booker interrupted her thoughts. Elizabeth tried to smile.

"After…" Jack did not want to say the rest. He did not even want to remember what he had been told that Atlas would do to the young woman in front of him. "After you're through, where will you go?"

"Home." She answered, though she was not exactly sure what it meant. She had never known a home save for her tower, and there was no going back there. "The Luteces have kindly agreed to take me and Booker home after… after it's done." The twins both inclined their heads in something like a bow as they were mentioned.

"After you return here, yes?" Tenenbaum spoke up for nearly the first time since they reached her lab. The rest looked at her with question in their eyes. "After you are cured of the ADAM sickness, I hope." She clarified.

Elizabeth took another deep breath as her brow knotted in frustration. "Yes. That… that may prove more difficult than we had anticipated." She tried not to blame Booker for making this promise. She too would rather be rid of the ADAM in her blood once she was out of Rapture. But they had yet to solve this last logistical problem.

"Why couldn't you just come back?" Jack asked.

"Jack, it's not that simple-" She tried to answer, but Jack was not through.

"You could stay here, if you like. With me and the girls, I mean." He said to the surprise of the group. "Booker told me that there is not much left for you back in 1912. We could help you start again here." He suggested.

Elizabeth stopped for a moment, considering. Part of her wanted nothing else than that. Jack Ryan and Dr. Tenenbaum were likely the only ones to understand her story, besides the Luteces of course. What harm could there be in staying 50 years ahead of her time, after everything? Was it asking too much? But she already knew the answer. "Jack," She said at last, slowly. Jack knew her answer already from her tone. "After I do this I won't remember. I'll forget everything that has happened since I died. When I come back, I won't remember you. I won't remember any of this, or anything I've seen. I won't remember you, Dr. Tenenbaum." She gave a short humorless laugh. "I won't even remember that my father is alive."

"We can of course bring you back for the… procedure." Robert Lutece suggested.

"But I would discourage you from staying in a time that is not your own." His sister added. "Especially after the experience you are about to undergo."

Jack nodded. "I understand."

An awkward silence prevailed over the next several moments. No one wanted to say goodbye.

"Alright, so" Booker finally spoke up "You'll go through to Rapture and…And then The Luteces and I will get you out."

"I will be injured and disoriented." Elizabeth confirmed. She seemed to be the only one remotely comfortable talking about the pain she was about to partake in. "It would be best to return to somewhere I remember. Your office in New York. That way I can get my bearings. After I've recovered and hopefully understood the story you will tell me, Booker, all that will be left is for you to convince me to have my ADAM removed. I'm sure I will be willing enough to give up the ADAM once you've explained everything again, but Dr. Tenenbaum I will not recognize you by anything more than name." She turned to each as she addressed them. Unlike the others Elizabeth could still see all of this, past, present, and future, in her mind. She could see into all of the doors and see time as it really was, and her place in it. "Robert, Rosalind," It was one of the first times, possibly the only time, she ever addressed them both by name. "If you will do me and my father this one last favor, to bring me here and back once all is done…"

"We shall." They agreed. "It will be no great difficulty. But know that this will be the last of such trips that you take." It was Rosalind who spoke.

"Yes." For Elizabeth the fact was still sinking in. "Thank you." Another long pause. "I suppose…" Elizabeth said at length. "It's time to say goodbye."

It was time to say goodbye to the woman she had become over the last few days, the family she had revived, and the friends she had met. It was time to say goodbye to the power which made it possible. It was time to say goodbye, it seemed, to sanity itself.

She addressed each person in the room by turn.

"Lutece" She addressed them at once and said simply "Thank you. I know I will see you again at least once, and that I will remember who you are, but… Thank you for your help. I would be dead without you."

The identical scientists did not respond verbally, each merely inclining their heads again to indicate that they had heard and accepted her thanks. They did not mention how this whole thing was in a sense their fault to begin with or how Elizabeth would not be dead without them, she would have never left her father's house. They did not need to. That debt was almost behind them. And to promise a favor even as small as her most recent request was nice for a change.

"Dr. Tenenbaum." Elizabeth turned to the slender woman next. She gave the German scientist a quick hug. "Thank you." She said. "You've saved my life already by being willing to help a pair of strangers. I'm sorry I won't remember any of this when I return, but I hope that Booker and I have been able to further your research."'

Tenenbaum nodded. "You are a brave woman, Elizabeth, and strong. I hope you are well when we meet again."

"Jack." Elizabeth turned to the young man last. "I…" she had barely known this man for a matter of hours, but it felt like leaving a friend, a hero, behind. "I know we've just met but… I cannot thank you enough." She could not resist hugging him too. Jack accepted her embrace warmly. "I'm sorry that I won't remember, Jack. I'm sorry I can't stay. But you have made this all worth it." She pulled away "You gave me hope and a chance at redemption. Just like you did for Dr. Tenenbaum and for your daughters." She sighed a bit again "It hurts to know that I will forget your story. But I think the hope will linger on."

"We won't forget you, Miss Elizabeth." Jack promised her. But he could say nothing more.

Elizabeth backed up and looked her friends over once more. "I guess this is goodbye." She said. She took a deep breath and opened a tear in the middle of the lab.

At the sight of the portal and Rapture on the other side both Dr. Tenenbaum and Jack visibly gasped and stepped back. Elizabeth wanted to follow them. She had been to that accursed city once before and it had killed her. She did not want to return.

Her father's hand was on her shoulder and as she turned she could see the concern written in his eyes. She was in his arms for a third time a moment later.

"Booker…" She whispered against him. "I-I'm scared."

Booker wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders as she curled against his chest. "You can do this Elizabeth. I know you can."

She nodded, but weakly.

"I'll be with you, remember? You won't be alone." He tried to offer, but was still a bit skeptical about the ADAM procedure. Elizabeth nodded more strongly this time.

"We'll get you out, Elizabeth." Booker pulled her back to look him in the eye. "I promise."

Elizabeth nodded a third time, trying to block out the tears that threatened to overtake her at the thought of what she was about to do. No one else in the group said a word.

"Hey." Booker called her back, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "You helped get my past back, so I'll help you with yours, okay? We'll get through this."

"Thank you, Booker." She whispered shakily. "I'll see you soon."

She backed out of her father's embrace, keeping his hand securely in hers, and gave one final, frightened smile back at those who had helped bring her here. Booker held her hand until she was through the portal, which shut silently after her.


	16. Chapter 16: There and Back Again

**Chapter 16: There and Back Again**

The silence that followed was potent and deafening. Despite all planning, each felt as if they had just witnessed the beautiful young woman step into her own grave.

"…How long do we have to wait?" Booker asked at last.

"No time at all, if you would like." Rosalind answered. "If Elizabeth told you the exact time you would be needed-"

"She did." He took a piece of paper from his pocket on which the information was written down and handed it to Madame Lutece without ever moving his eyes from the spot where Elizabeth had last stood.

"Then we may be off immediately." Rosalind continued.

"Mind that once the tear is opened you will need to act quickly to enter Rapture and exit it again." Robert added.

"Of course." Booker was already steeling himself to save his little girl.

"Well, Mr. DeWitt." Dr. Tenenbaum interrupted. "I suppose it is goodbye to you too. We will see you shortly when your daughter recovers. Until then, if you have any symptoms of ADAM sickness, I will need to know."

"Of course. I'll make a note." Booker smiled. It was good to talk business in the midst of all this emotion.

"Well, Booker." Jack offered his hand and the two men shared a firm farewell handshake. "I wish I could have known you longer." He said. "I'll be sure to be here when you and your daughter return, if I can."

"Thank you for everything, Jack." Booker said with a smile.

Rosalind spoke next. "We can be back with Mr. DeWitt and Elizabeth momentarily, if that would be convenient, though it may be days or weeks for them."

"Well, we'll see you soon, then, Booker." Jack clapped his new friend on the back. "Good luck."

Booker nodded at the Luteces and a second tear opened in the midst of the lab. Booker could not see Elizabeth through it, which was probably best for Jack and Tenenbaum, but he knew that she would be there.

Booker did not waste another second before plunging back into Rapture.

The city was even more of a nightmare than he had imagined or seen himself. "Elizabeth!" He called into the darkness, before suddenly becoming intensely aware that he ought to call no more attention to himself. He tried not to imagine what could be lurking in the dark of this God forsaken city, but even his stoic mind could not keep a creeping sense of paranoia at bay.

The ground shook beneath his feet as he rounded a corner, but with the explosion, too close for comfort but too far to fear, he finally found some light and sense of direction. He had seen this place before, Elizabeth had shown him. She had walked this hall.

"Get a radio to the surface!" Booker gasped as he heard a voice growing near. As quick as he could, he found a shadowed place, pressed himself against the wall, and held his breath just in time as four or five men grew near, "I'm sure the old man still has one in the shipping lanes, and I don't care what you have to do to get it." Their leader has a strong Irish accent. 'Atlas', Booker knew. That meant that Elizabeth was close. "Would you kindly." The man repeated, "at least that old cook Suchong had a sense of humor." He laughed roughly. "Would you kindly…" The voices faded into the distance, and Booker took off down the hall slightly quicker than proper caution would have advised.

As he rounded one last corner, Booker could see it all: Rapture, in all of its terrible glory. Through the hazy water, a tower brighter than even those he had seen in his visions of New York shone, even as explosions like fireworks tore the city apart. What caught his attention however was the pair of silhouettes that the bright city cast before it. That of a little girl, and a dying woman.

"Elizabeth!" he cried, running to her side and feeling to his knees. Her face was pale and her eyes shut. Bright red blood trailed down from her scalp in terrifying amounts. He scooped her up into his arms as quickly as he could.

"No! NO!" The little girl beside him screamed, pounding her tiny hands against his strong arms and trying to pull Elizabeth away.

"It's alright." He tried to say, more to Elizabeth than to the girl. Sally. She was alive, so Elizabeth must have succeeded.

As Booker stood he heard an ominous cry beside him.

"Mr. B!" Sally cried. Booker felt a startling chill run through his spine as he heard a deep terrifying groan that he knew belonged to a Big Daddy. He would leave Sally in the brute's care and get the hell out of this God forsaken city before it saw him.

Running back the way he came, Booker maintained a steady stream of reassurance to his daughter. "You made it his far, come on. You'll be alright. Come on!"

As he returned to where the portal to 1969 had closed behind him, he found another portal to 1912 open in its place.

"Hold on." Booker clutched his daughter tightly in his arms as he stepped back through the portal "I've got you, just hold on." He placed her down on his bed and rapidly fished out the cloth Dr. Tenenbaum had given him to press against the wound. "Don't die on me, Elizabeth, don't you _dare_ die!"

* * *

**The End.**

A/N: As the reader, you can decide whether the DeWitt's followed the Luteces' advice or opted to stay and live with Jack and Tenenbaum after the procedure. I like to think that they did.


End file.
